And the Meek Shall Inherit the Galaxy
by Full-Paragon
Summary: Due to a shift in turian and quarian patrols, first contact for humanity is friendly; Rael'Zorah and Hannah Shepard become friends, as do their species. But the galaxy is not a safe place, and schisms develop when the Council steps in. As humanity finds new allies among the stars, something darker stirs. The Meek must beware, for it is nearly harvest time. AU, lots of worldbuilding
1. Chapter 1

**And the Meek Shall Inherit the Galaxy**

_For want of a nail the shoe was lost.  
For want of a shoe the horse was lost.  
For want of a horse the rider was lost.  
For want of a rider the message was lost.  
For want of a message the battle was lost.  
For want of a battle the kingdom was lost.  
And all for the want of a horseshoe nail._

_But what if there had been a nail?_

_HWS* Overlook_

Lieutenant Adrian Victus sighed. More border patrol assignments out in the boonies. He glanced at his reports. Relay 314. A pointless patrol really, there were no species out there, and who would be dumb enough to activate a relay? He picked up another report and frowned. Migrant fleet activity in the area. At least buzzing the quarians sounded interesting. With a few jots, Lieutenant Victus altered his patrol course, well within his power as the commander of the scout vessel.

And thus, history was changed. For want of a patrol.

_*Hierarchy War Ship_

_MFBV* Belari_

"So, what do you think XO Gerral?"

"Oh, damned if I know Captain Zorah. We could tweak the metal heads mandibles again, but there are some funny readings over by 314. Might be worth checking out."

Captain Rael'Zorah vas Belari sat back in his chair and studied the readouts. "Could be nothing though Gerral, just background radiation."

"True, but ever since we've move into this sector, those blips have been turning up regularly. It could be something. Maybe the metalheads are secretly activating a relay without telling anyone. At any rate, its something the fleet should know, especially since that's only one jump from our main formation."

Rael glanced up at Han's gleaming eyes. Both he and his XO were famous for the trouble they had caused along the border in the last few years, and invisible line that "suit rats" were just not supposed to toe. But there had been good salvage and even a few covert mining operations that the team of Zorah and Gerral had pulled off, and it had gotten Rael his own ship and Han into a position where he was soon to assume command of his own vessel. Things were looking up for the two young quarians carreer wise. But that meant no more adventures soon.

Grinning and winking his eyes behind his suit's mask, Rael nodded to his XO. "Alright, 314 it is. Who knows, maybe we'll catch the metal heads with their pants down."

_*Migrant Fleet Battle Vessel_

_SSV* Carl Jung_

Senior Chief Hannah Shepard took a moment to lift her son to the glass so he could get a good look at the Relay.

"What's that mommy?"

"It's a mass relay, a new one Johnny."

"Why's it not spinning like the other ones?"

"It's not on yet, that's what we're trying to do.

"Why's it off?"

"Well, the protheans must have turned it off when they left. Don't worry, we'll get it back on."

"Will there be aliens on the other side?"

"Maybe. But I bet they'll be nice aliens. Maybe you can make friends with one of them."

"Yeah! I want an alien friend. He would be my bestest friend."

"Well, what if it's a girl alien?"

"Well, we could still be friends as long as she likes dinosaurs. Do you like dinosaurs mommy?"

"Of course I do Johnny! Why, just in the last few weeks, I've learned all about velociraptors."

"Yeah! They head feathers, and ate meat, and walked like this!" Johnny scrambled down and practiced his dinosaur walk, growling all the way.

Hannah smiled and then scooped her son up, blowing on his chest to make a loud farting noise as he squealed with pleasure. It was nice working for the Alliance, she had gotten maternity leave, then a posting on a medical ship, the _SSV Carl Jung,_ where she had personal quarters for both herself and her son. She was even paid a bit extra to see the effect of growing up on a space ship was having on the young Shepard. Which was nice as a single parent, Hannah didn't even really know who Johnny's father was, and had never done the DNA testing to figure it out. He was all hers.

Just then, the claxon sounded and Johnny started crying. Hannah picked up her son and took off at a dead run.

"Attention, all hands," Captain Barak Muhammad announced, "we have detected an unknown vessel entering the system. Possible CODE ABLE. Stand by for further orders."

Hannah hurried to the nursery and handed Johnny over to the caretaker, then left the still balling toddler and ran to her station at the hanger. She wasn't on for this shift, but the plan for first contact, CODE ABLE, called for every serviceperson to be at their stations. He crew was standing by, and Hannah swallowed as she waited for further orders.

"Maybe it's just a lost civilian craft?" Jones, one of Hannah's technicians ventured.

"And maybe pigs fly. Get it together Jones." Hannah snapped.

As they waited, Hannah whispered a silent prayer for her son, that the new world he found himself in would be a kind one. And that perhaps, these new aliens would like dinosaurs. Like the small, plastic toy Hannah still had in her pocket.

*_Systems Service Vessel _

_MFBV Belari_

"Captain, what do you make of this?" Lieutenant Turl'Enarh asked, putting up new data on the captain's feed.

Rael frowned. "It's not the turians."

"Not salarian, asari, volus, or any other kind of registered vessel." Han muttered from his own station. "What are they?"

"New species?" Turl offered. "That could explain all the strange signals we've been getting from this area.

"Hmm. Maybe." Rael allowed. "Take us in, on a very obvious elliptical. Vent some extra radiation, use a twos pattern. Act like we are friendlies."

"Are you sure sir? Council law says-" Turl began.

"Damn the Council!" Rael roared, and most of his bridge officers nodded with him. "I'm not reporting something like this to the turians! We're not even a council species anymore! If I report to anyone, I'll report to the Admiralty, but this is my ship, and under quarian law I may initiate first contact!"

"Yes sir!" Berga'Otorus in navigation cheered, and the Belari began her slow dance forward.

_SSV Hampton Roads_

"Admiral, sir, whatever it is, it's making damn certain we know it's here. It's taking its sweet time, if the initial accel we charted is anything to go by."

Rear Admiral Steven Hackett frowned at his readout. That was accurate enough. Whatever the alien ship was, it was going rather slowly forward, venting all kinds of emissions on all bands in a steady, two pulse pattern.

"Signal the fleet. I want all our ships mimicking that vent pattern, and broadcasting friendly messages on all frequencies. Alert FleetCom. Confirm CODE ABLE."

_MFBV Balari_

"They're responding Captain. The ships are moving slowly away from the relay and broadcasting on a number of frequencies. It's not in any the standard protocols, but the information is clearly organized and contains a language."

Rael grinned and looked over at Han, who nodded and winked. "That's good news Turl. Maintain our approach. Make for the largest vessel, that one out masses us by several tones. We don't want them to think we're hostile."

_SSV Hampton Roads_

"They're making for the Carl Jung sir, but they don't appear to be making any aggressive moves."

Hackett nodded. It made sense, the Jung was the largest ship in his little formation. As far as the aliens knew, it was the flag ship, and the best armed. In reality, the hospital ship was totally unarmed, but it did boast some of the toughest barriers Earth could make.

"Maintain formation and heading. Let the Jung know the ball is in their court. They'll be making first contact."

_SSV Carl Jung_

"Attention, all hands. CODE ABLE is confirmed. The alien ship is making for us. All docking crews, enter a state of readiness for CODE ABLE."

Hannah sucked in her breath and felt like vomiting. The aliens were coming here, to her ship. Where her son was. She prayed that they would be friendly.

"Alright people, enviro-suits on! We don't know what kind of nastiness those aliens have, and you're ugly enough as it is Sung! I don't want any accidents, we're about to make history!"

"Yes ma'am!" Her crew responded, and Hannah nodded. She could still use her Chief's Voice, that was good.

The minutes ticked by with agonizing slowness. Hannah couldn't help but think of Johnny, what me must be feeling. Somehow, the plastic dinosaur had ended up in her envirosuits grip, and it was comforting. Whatever entered her hanger, Hannah would be ready. Nothing was going to hurt her son.

_MFBV Balari_

"They're turning, that's a docking bay there. We can take the shuttle over." Han stated.

Rael nodded. "Let's do it. Berga, you have the bridge. Han, you're with me. Just the two of us, don't want to scare them."

"Like anyone is ever scared of quarians."

"Let's hope so. These new comers could be allies, and the fleet needs some of those."

Rael's heart seemed to want to jump out of his suit as he made his way to the shuttle. He thought of his wife, Kleeah, and their baby daughter, Tali, just six months old. Maybe this would be their first steps back to the homeworld. Or even a new one.

"Keelah Se'lai." Rael whispered.

"Keelah Se'lai." Han agreed. "Let's do this."

_SSV Carl Jung- Hannah Shepard_

Hannah's crew stood ready, not sure of what to do as the alien shuttle slowly entered the Jung's mass effect fields and landed in the cleared space for it. The whole hanger held its breath as the door slowly opened, and two aliens walked out. They were both in full envirosuits, though of a different design then the humans wore. One was in a pinkish suit, the other a darker, more tan model, though they both appeared to be of similar make.

Captain Muhammad stepped forward, and to Hannah's eternal embarrassment, made the Vulcan greeting sign. The rest of it was mercifully according to the CODE ABLE script.

"Welcome. We are humanity, the sons and daughters of Earth. We come in peace, and ask the same in return."

_Alien Vessel - Rael'Zorah_

When the alien leader finished speaking, Rael raised his own hand in a gesture of peace. "I am Captain Rael'Zorah vas Balari, of the quarian migrant fleet. We come in peace, and wish to open relations between our peoples."

The aliens looked at each other, then the leader stepped forward and thumped his own chest with his strange, five fingered hand. "Barak Muhammad."

Rael pointed to the alien and answered, "Barak Muhammad."

Nodding, the alien indicated the other members of its species. "Humans."

"Quarians." Rael answered, indicating himself and Gerrel. Then he pointed to his own chest. "Rael'Zorah vas Balari."

The alien pointed and repeated Rael's named, then stepped forward, offering his hands. Recognizing a gesture similar to one the salarians used, Rael took the aliens hands in his own and squeezed lightly.

"Friends." He stated.

"Sadeakaty."

Looking at Han, Rael smiled and nodded. "Well, this seems to be going well."

"Yes, the seem pretty nice, for aliens. Even have on envirosuits."

Just then, one of the humans said something to Barak Muhammad. The alien leader said something back, then removed his suits helmet. Rael was a little disappointed, but then, you couldn't expect an alien species to have as weak an immune system as quarians did.

Barak said something, indicating Rael's suit. He shook his head. "No, we have to leave that on. Ours don't come off."

The alien's face screwed up a bit, but then he relaxed and nodded. Then Barak pointed to one of his subordinates, this one with what Rael guessed were milk glands of some sort, probably a female. The female said something back, then approached, slowly taking off her own suit.

_SSV Carl Jung- Hannah Shepard_

Slowly, Hannah approached the alien, the quarian, taking out a picture of her and Johnny. "My son." She slowly said, passing the photo to the alien.

Captain Barak nodded and smiled. "Good, good, show them what our children look like. It should provoke empathy."

Hannah didn't care what the experts called it, and she stared hard into the aliens strange glowing eyes. "My. Son." She said again, putting force behind the words. She didn't want there to be any doubt that if any harm came to Johnny, there would be hell to pay.

After a moment, the alien handed the photo back to Hannah, then activated a strange, orange hologram on its arm. After a few more taps, a vid of what had to be the alien, Rael, this time suitless, appeared. His skin, Rael looked like a he to Hannah, with close cropped hair and a wispy beard, was greyish, and the hair was a dark purple. In his arms, Rael held a tiny infant. The child appeared to be sleeping, and Rael's lips were parted in a smile as he gazed down at his offspring.

"Keelah Se'lai, Tali'Zorah nar Rayya." The holo Rael whispered. Then the image stopped.

Rael pointed to the sleeping infant, and stated, "Il'hafi." There was iron in his voice. This was a man who would kill before he let anything happen to his child. That, Hannah could understand.

"For your 'Il'hafi,'" Hannah said, holding up the small plastic dinosaur.

Carefully, the alien took the toy in his three fingered grasp. "Edan. Il'hafi te'ul ven tefasa. Edan."

Hannah smiled and nodded, then started when Rael reached into the pouches at his belt and drew out a small, polished stone. It was etched with strange symbols, though they clearly represented something.

"Ya Il'hafa." Rael said, extending the stone to Hannah.

She took it gently, it was slightly warm to the touch, and sparkled with an inner light. "Thank you. My son will love this."

Rael nodded, and for a moment, Hannah and the quarian shared a complete understanding with each other. They had given each other gifts, not for themselves, but for their offspring. These aliens had come not to conquer or plunder, but in peace, with gifts for the children of humanity.

_You've got a bright future ahead of you, Johnny._ Hanna though. _I found you a little alien who's going to love dinosaurs._

_Because of the nail, the shoe stayed on._

_Because of the shoe, the horse ran on._

_Because of the horse, the rider did not fall._

_Because of the rider, the message was delivered_

_Because of the message, the battle was won._

_Because of the battle, the kingdom was saved. _

_Because of the kingdom, the world was changed. _

_Because of a nail._

_And Because of that nail, the Meek Shall Inherit the Galaxy._

Authors Note:

Well, to jump on the "first contact re-imagined" bandwagon, this is my vision of first contact with the migrant fleet. A very different galaxy would come from this, I think. If you are really interested in follow up chapters, let me know. Reviews and PMs do wonders for an authors inspiration ;)

EDIT: Well, after the ASTOUNDING number of reviews I have gotten, this story will be continuing for the foreseeable future. Thank you all for your wonderful support!


	2. Chapter 2

_MFBV Belari_ - _Hannah Shepard_

"I don't like the funny clothes mommy." Johnny whined, tugging at the ill fitting envirosuit.

Hannah sighed and knelt down, clumsy in her own envirosuit. "Listen, if we want to go on the aliens ship, we have to wear this. Otherwise, we can't come on."

That had been one thing the quarians had been very clear on. Humans were welcome to look around the Belari, that was the name of the quarian ship, but they had to be in an envirosuit. Hannah was beginning to wonder if they ever took those silly things off, even though she had seen a vid of Rael without a suit. Rael had specifically made it clear that Johnny was invited over, and after discussing it with the Admiral and the other officers, Hannah had reluctantly agreed to take her son over. Hopefully, the quarians were not going to try anything.

"Johnny'Shepard. You want come?" Rael himself was standing just outside the human shuttle docked in the Belari's tiny bay.

Johnny looked up at the quarian and crossed his arms. "Only if you carry me."

Rael turned to Hannah. "Cah-ri?"

"Like this." Hannah leaned over and clumsily picked her son up, trying to find a good place to hold him.

"Ah. Carry. Elti. Child, like elti, carry. You come now?"

"Let's get a move on, Chief." Admiral Hackett said from behind Hannah, causing her further consternation.

"Aye aye Admiral." Gingerly, Hannah stepped off the ramp onto the Belari's deck.

"Is good?" Gerrel, the other alien Hannah knew asked.

"Is good." Hackett confirmed, motioning for the tour to continue.

Gerrel and Rael said something to several other quarians that were standing by, then led Hackett and a few of his officers off through the ship. Another quarian, this one a female Hannah guests from her breast like protuberances on the chest, came forward and nodded to Hannah.

"Berga'Otorus." The female said, pointing to herself. Then she pointed to the child flopped in Hannah's arms. "Joohnie'Sheepard?"

"My name is Johnny." The child replied, scrabbling out of Hannah's arms onto the deck. "You talk funny."

Berga squatted down on her haunches so that her glowing eyes were level with Johnny's. "Johnnie?"

Giggling, Johnny shook his head. "No! Johnny!"

"Ah, Johnny."

"Yep! You're Miss Bearga?"

"Berga. Berga'Otorus vas Belari."

"Berga!"

"Keesai!" Berga cheered then nodded up at Hannah. "Hannah'Sheepard?"

"Yes, that's my name. Hannah Shepard."

"Vas Caarl Juug?"

That Hannah didn't understand. "Vas, you all have that in your names? You're vas Belari, so is Rael and Gerrel."

Berga stood and spread her arms. "Belari. Vas Belari se'richii nar yk'li." The quarian pulled up her orange hologram and after a few keystrokes, an image of Berga working appeared. Then a sleeping Berga, an eating Berga, even a Berga fiddling with some yarn looking stuff with another quarian. The images faded, then Berga stamped her foot on the deck. "Belari. Berga vas Belari."

"It's your home?" Johnny asked, mesmerized by the quarians antics.

"Whoame?"

"Home, you know, where you eat and sleep and play and stuff." Johnny mimicked doing all those things.

"Home? Gi, Belari Berga home. Johnny nar Caarl Juug?" This was addressed to Hannah, with some pantomime of what clearly resembled Berga giving birth.

"Oh, no! I had Johnny on Arcturus station. He was born Arcturus," This she punctuated with more giving birth pantomime, " his home is the Carl Jung."

"Ah! Johnny'Shepard nar Arcturus! Hannah'Shepard vas Carl Jung?"

Hannah paused, obviously the nar and vas had deeper meaning, but she nodded her head. They could figure out the rest as they went along. "Yes, I think so. Hannah'Shepard vas Carl Jung nar Earth."

"Berga'Otorus vas Belari nar Rayya."

Berga clapped her hands and motioned for Hannah and Johnny to follower her. This time, there was no need to cajole the young boy to go with the quarian. Over the next few hours, Hannah and Berga did their best to teach each other English and the quarian language, with mixed results. There was a lot of laughing and exaggerated motions, drawings on a note pad Hannah had brought just for that purpose, and plenty of images on Berga's orange hologram.

Johnny was having the time of his life meanwhile, exploring all the nooks and crannies Berga would let him. Hannah quickly learned the quarian words for no, danger, and stay out, and Johnny did as well. Actually, the little boy seemed to be picking up quarian faster than his mother in some cases, though he was too busy clowning around for the quarians to be of much use.

"Ah, child, funny." Berga laughed, nodding to Johnny. "Later time, Berga make child. Mate home, live other ship." The quarian was speaking an odd mixture of English and quarian, though she was able to get her point across.

"They're a lot of work." Hannah laughed. "Messy. Smelly. But good. Love."

"Lovee?"

Hannah grabbed her squirming boy and touched her mask to his, holding him tightly for a moment. "Love." She repeated.

"Ah, hafa'zil Berga nodded. "Berga saa'zil Johnny. tai'zil Hannah."

"Hannah tai'zil Berga?"

The quarian nodded, and held out her hand. Hannah grasped and shook it. "Tai'zil."

_MFBV Belari - Rael'Zorah _

One thing Rael had to give the humans, they were almost as quick learners as a quarian, and just as curious. They seemed to want to examine everything, see whatever Rael had to show them. For security reasons, he didn't let the party near the engines or the weapon systems, but he showed them just about everything else. The older human, the one called Hackett, seemed to be willing to let his subordinates do all the examining while he kept his opinions to himself. Rael was more than ready to bet the man was a senior captain, or even an Admiral, based on the way Barak deferred to him.

There had been a couple times when Hackett seemed upset when certain systems were declared off limits, but Rael wasn't sure. These humans had fairly similar body language to quarians, though it was subtlety different enough that he couldn't be quite certain. When the tour was over, Hackett was the one who extended his hand and shook it, showing his teeth in a grin. Rael didn't have to work to figure out what that meant, it was similar enough to an expression the asari used.

"Thank you. Friend." Hackett managed, his keelish rather rough.

"Welcome, friend." Rael replied, in human that wasn't much better.

With that, the humans left, including the one called Hannah and her child. The boy waved excitedly to Berga, who returned the gesture as the humans shuttle door closed.

"Well captain, I must say, I rather like those two humans." Berga laughed once the shuttle had taken off.

Rael grunted. "Yes, they do seem nice enough, at least for now. Time will tell if they mean it."

"That older one, Hackett," Gerrel mused, "he seemed to be in charge. Not such a bad sort, he kept his people out of trouble when they wanted to poke at things they shouldn't and treated us like a respected elder."

Nodding, Rael turned and started back to the bridge. "They're children, for all intents and purposes. Still getting their feet wet."

"Do you think there's a possibility for peace with them, Captain? A trading alliance perhaps?" Berga asked as they made their way through the ship.

"Too soon to tell. But I think it likely. At the very least, their children are cute. That little human, Joenie I think it was?"

"Johnny'Shepard nar Arcturus, Captain." Berga supplied.

"Yes, Johnny, reminds me of myself at that age. Always moving, into everything."

"Probably not as much of a trouble maker though. Sir." Gerrel teased.

"You didn't know me back then XO. So you can't prove anything."

The quarians all got a chuckle out of that one. Rael had more than earned his reputation as a trouble maker along the turian border, and more than a few of the metal heads would love to get their talons on the Belari and her captain.

"What should our course of action be, sir?" Rael asked as they stepped onto the bridge.

Sitting in his chair, Rael drummed his fingers on the arm rests for a moment. "Hmm. Send a short message to the flotilla. Give them the short version, first contact with new species. Possibly friendly. Will give additional details when possible."

"Sending it now captain."

Leaning back, Rael closed his eyes for a moment and thought of his family. Was he building a better future for them? He hoped so. Perhaps these humans could be of some use. Perhaps not. Either way, it hopefully wouldn't hurt to try.

SSV Hampton Roads - Hackett

"What did you make of them, Chief Rodgers?" Hackett asked his senior engineer as they sat in the Hampton Roads stateroom.

Rodgers shrugged. "Hard to say sir. They seem nice enough, but we don't really speak enough of their lingo yet to know for certain."

"What about their tech?"

"Honestly sir? It's strange. Most of what they have seems to beat to hell and gone of you ask me, but it's still much better than anything we have."

"Thoughts?" Hackett asked his officers. Most of them voiced opinions along the same lines. That confirmed what Hackett had already been thinking.

"That raises some questions. They seem like a professional outfit, and the ship was squared away and clean from what I saw. Not pirates I think, but there has to be a reason that ship has more layers of paint then an oak tree has rings."

More nods of agreement. "Sir, do you think it's possible they're rebels or terrorists of some sort?" That was Vasquez, Hackett's XO.

"Maybe they're cut off from resupply somehow." Captain Barak offered.

"All good theories, but just theories." Hackett rumbled. "For now, we stay friendly. I'm sending another report to Arcturus command. Just the facts. They appear friendly, they let us on their ship, their tech is used, but better then what we have. Recommend friendly negotiations. Anyone have anything else urgent to add?"

No one spoke.

"Right. I want men working with the quarians they sent over round the clock. Focus on learning their lingo. Chief Shepard and her boy did good today. Get them back over once they've had a full rest cycle. Dismissed."

_SSV Carl Jung - Rael'Zorah_

The more Rael saw of the human ship, the more he had to clamp down on his envy. It was crude in many ways, and clearly the product of a race that hadn't had long to develop their own mass effect technology. But it was the product of plenty of resources, that much was certain. True, there were a few patches, but all the welds were neat and precise. They had had plenty of spare parts to use, and the patches were all the same material as the original.

But that wasn't all Rael saw. He also saw a friendly people. Everyone was going out of their way to be nice on an occasion like this, but the humans seemed to be doing more than just paying the idea lip service. Take Hannah Shepard for instance. You didn't let just anyone hold your son, even if he was the first alien your race had ever seen.

Johnny Shepard was proving to have a remarkably wide keelish vocabulary for someone who had just started learning the day before.

"Pink." He was saying, pointing to Rael's colored stripes on his suit. "Pink." That time was in human.

"Pink." Rael repeated.

Johnny giggled, then leaned in close to Rael's helmet. "Pink girl color," the tiny human whispered, the covered his mouth and giggled some more.

"Pink Rael's color." Rael stated, making his voice as deep as it would go. "Pink manly for quarian."

"Johnny, boys pink too, sometimes." Hannah chided her son.

Rael shrugged. "Him OK. Just silly."

Hannah rolled her eyes, a gesture the humans seemed to favor above most. "Yes. Him very silly." Reaching out, Hannah took Johnny from Rael's arms. "Him also need nap. Say bye-bye to nice Rael."

"Mooooooommmmmmy! I'm not tired!" Johnny whined, confirming to all within hearing distance that it was indeed time for the little humans nap.

"Go with Ensign Gail. Nap, then play."

Resigned to his fate, Johnny was once again passed into the arms of a waiting human woman, and carried off for his nap.

Rael chuckled, nodding to the departing boy. "Sound like little quarian. Little quarian not like nap same. Need though. Nap good, Johnny'Shepard nar Arcturus."

Berga had made sure her captain knew the full name of the little human, though he was still a little vague on what Arcturus or Earth exactly was.

"What Rael nar?" Hannah asked.

"Rael'Zorah vas Belari nar Rayya."

Hannah's eyes lit up, and she nodded. "Ah, Rayya quarian home planet?"

"No, Rayya ship. Big ship, big than Carl Jung. Many quarian."

"What quarian planet? Human planet Earth." Hannah pulled out a picture and handed it to Rael. He took it and studied it for a moment. It was beautiful, a blue-green sphere with white clouds. On the night side, the golden lights of cities appeared. It made Rael more than a little jealous, but it wasn't the humans fault that Rannoch was lost.

"Good. Pretty." Rael nodded.

"What quarian planet name?"

"Quarian planet Rannoch."

"Ah! Many quarian live Rannoch?"

There it was. The hard question. Rael hesitated for a moment, was it a good idea to tell the humans the truth? To let them know that the quarians had lost their homeworld. Yes. After all, if humanity didn't hear it from the quarians, they would hear it from far less sympathetic voices soon enough.

"No. No quarians live Rannoch."

This seemed to take Hannah by surprise, and for a moment, the human searched for the right words. "Why leave? Sick? Poison?"

"Geth." Rael brought up an image of a geth trooper, holding one of the plasma rifles. He played a short training vid, where the geth executed a squad of quarian civilians. "Geth, ah, metal people. Quarians make. Geth take Rannoch, quarians leave or, um, not live."

Using his omnitool, Rael showed an ancient vid of quarians boarding ships and fleeing as the geth cut down the soldiers trying to protect the women and children. "Geth bad. Make many quarian not live."

For a moment, Hannah studied the vid, all the color having drained out of her face. It was funny, it actually made her look more like a quarian, though Rael was pretty sure it was a fear response. Then, Hannah held up a closed fist. "Maybe humans help quarian. Make geth not live. Get Rannoch."

Rael looked around, and several of the other humans were nodding, their faces grim as the vid of the geth slaughtering quarians replayed.

Rael felt like crying.

_SSV Hampton Roads - Hackett_

"From what I can tell sir, these geth took the quarians home planet from them a few hundred years ago, three quarian lifetimes. It's safe to bet that's about 300 years, more or less the same as us." Chief Shepard was saying. "I think that's why all their gear is so old. They don't have the resources to maintain it. They're smart, clever and managed to develop a race of sentient AI, but from what I can tell those AI attacked the quarians and drove them off planet."

"Thank you, Senior Chief. Anything further to report?" Hackett asked.

For a moment, the women hesitated, then grinned sheepishly. "They all get along great with my son. They really seem to like him. Berga, one of the ships officers, was teaching him quarian songs and games. He likes them as well. I'm not sure if that's important, sir."

"I think it is Chief. Children are a good judge of character, and how people react to them tells us a lot about who we are dealing with. The quarians love our children, give them gifts, show them games and are patient and tolerant when Johnny pitches a fit. I saw the little nap scenario on vid. Don't be embarrassed Chief, he was being a child. But the way Rael reacted showed compassion and empathy. These are people we can get along with. Hackett out."

For a moment, Hackett drummed his fingers on his desk, then he turned and started recording a report. This was something Arcturus needed to know. The quarians needed raw materials, were friendly and empathetic, and possessed high technology. Hackett could practically smell the opportunities. More than that, Hackett saw a chance for humanity to prove what it was truly made of. That they were not the conquistadors or greedy sons of bitches that too many people seemed to see themselves as. Here was a chance for humanity to extend a helping hand to its neighbors. And if they happened to get something in return, well, that was just good karma wasn't it?

On that note, Hackett composed his second report to fleetcom. He just hoped the note of cooperation and friendless was a sign of things to come, or his entire career, and more importantly, the entire human race, was at risk.

_MFBV Belari - Rael_

Rael was in an exceptionally good mood. For the first time in his life, possibly ever, an alien had offered to help the quarians retake Rannoch. For Rael, that had always been his lifelong goal, what he had sworn to his infant daughter while he cradled her in his arms. Anything or anyone that helped him reach that goal was OK in Rael's book.

Granted, Hannah Shepard wasn't an admiral, or even a ship's captain. But it was the fact that she was willing to voice that opinion that counted. If there had ever been turians, asari, salarians, or even elcor, volus or hannar, that had ever spoken up in favor of assisting the quarians in retaking Rannoch, Rael had never heard of them. If the quarians could get the common human, like Hannah, on their side, perhaps retaking Rannoch wouldn't be just a dream for Rael anymore.

He sat down and began to compose his report. Even if at this point all humanity would be was a trading partner, the Admiralty needed to hear about it.

_Migrant Fleet, Liveship Rayya_

Admiral Unna'Xevish could hardly believe her auditory canals. "... In conclusion, this new species, humanity, seems to be open to establishing relations with the quarian people which could lead to a mutually beneficial alliance. I will continue to learn more about them, and ask permission for the fleet to send a team to their homeworld to further communication. I suggest myself and my XO, Han'Gerrel, as we have the most experience with the humans and speak more of their language. The human leader of their ships, Admiral Stephen Hackett, has requested the presence of additional quarian vessels and leadership if possible. We are currently in orbit around Relay 314. I also request that my wife, Kleeah'Zorah and daughter, Tali'Zorah, accompany the envoy. One of the human liaisons, Hannah Shepard, has a young son and I believe our children could be an excellent way to establish diplomatic relations. Captain Rael'Zorah out."

Unna turned to her ships officer, PIlla'Tris. "Get me the rest of the Admiralty Board. Now."

_Alliance Space, Arcturus Station_

Fleet Admiral Carlos Rodriguez could not keep the grin off his face. "Confirm CODE ABLE. Species is named quarians, initial contact friendly. Opportunity for peaceful relations and tech, as well as possible strong alliance." The initial burst from 314 had raised a lot of hopes. What had followed had confirmed them all.

He strode in to the Alliance parliament, and the entirety of the chamber hushed as his footsteps echoed in the halls. Dozens of cameras silently flashed, and a hundred vid recorders followed him up to the podium. Placing his notes before him, he cleared his throat, enjoying the moment of rapt attention.

"People of Earth. As Commander of the Alliance Navy, I come to you with glad tidings. First Contact has been made." On cue, a picture of Rael'Zorah clasping hands with Captain, due for a promotion, Barak Muhammad. "And people, it is friendly!"

A roar of applause and cheers deafened Admiral Rodriguez for a moment, but he didn't mind. When the applause died down, he showed the next slide, a recording of Hannah Shepard showing a picture of her son to the quarian, and the vid of him and his daughter. Gasps of joy and whispers of "how precious!" fluttered like the wings of a thousand thrushes before dying down.

"We knew that this was inevitable," Rodriguez continued, "that humanity was not alone in the universe after uncovering the prothean archives. But only in our wildest dreams did we imagine that first contact would happen with such a peaceful, caring people. From what we know, the quarians have offered to trade their advanced technology for supplies and goodwill offerings. Though we feel joy at this meeting, there is also sorrow."

An image of a geth, slaying a quarian appeared on the screen. Gasps of horror and panic."The quarians claim to have lost their homeworld to an uprising of AI servants of some sort. We do not have the details, but I have ordered an immediate halt on all AI development projects until we can learn all the facts."

Nods of approval and whispers of fear and worry.

"This presents a great opportunity for humanity." The slide changed again, back to Hannah and Gerrel giving each other gifts for their respective children. "Humanity has not only encountered another species, but we have a chance to be more than just a lonely race among the stars. We have found a friendly people, one that needs our help. We can give them that aid. We can forge a future, together for our peoples."

This was met with excited clapping, until Rodriguez held up a hand for silence. He got it.

A vid of Johnny Shepard in Rael's arms, laughing as the quarian made growling noises and moved the toy dinosaur appeared. "We have found another people in the stars. Will we sit back and do nothing, or will humanity show itself to be a friend to those in need?"

With a single voice, the senate roared their approval. The message was clear. Humanity would extend a helping hand, starting off their contact with the rest of the galaxy not with war or tragedy, but with mercy and peace. Admiral Rodriguez had never been so proud to be a human before in his life.

_HWS Overwatch - Victus_

"Lieutenant, take a look at this."

Adrian Victus moved over to the techs screen, then frowned. They had just jumped to right outside the system containing the 314 relay, a bit behind their original schedule, but it had been acceptable. The Migrant Fleet was indeed in the area, and one never knew what a suit rat might get up to if you didn't keep an eye on him.

"Looks like a cluster of ships in orbit around the Relay." Victus muttered.

"Yes sir, don't match anything in our data base, accept this one. It's a quarian ship sir, the Belari. Rael'Zorah is in command, and Han'Gerrel is his XO according to our latest intel."

"Zorah." Victus growled, spreading his mandibles in anger. That was a name loathed by the turian navy. Rael'Zorah was one suit rat the galaxy would be a better place without. He had crossed into turian space far too often, stolen to much salvage and gotten the best of the turians far too many times. "That barefaced suit rat has found a new species to do his dirty work! He's trying to get them to open the relay in clear violation of council law!"

"Looks that way sir."

"Damn him! Flash traffic to fleetcom, quarians attempting to open relay 314 with unknown species. Will stay in system to monitor activity. Request immediate back up and recommend full task force to be deployed."

"Yes sir!"

The atmosphere of the bridge hummed with excitement, and Victus growled deep in his throat as he flexed his talons. "You won't get away with it this time, Gerrel. Your days of tarnishing the honor of the Hierarchy are over."

_And so, history began to play itself out as it had, much the same as before. _

_But this time, there was a nail. _

_This time, the horseshoe stayed on. _

_And that makes all the difference. _

_The proud shall be humbled._

_The meek exalted. _

_All because of a nail._

_Authors Note: _

_As some of you noticed, I pushed Tali's birthday up a few years for story purposes. In cannon, she is about 7 years younger than Shepard, but in this story, she is only about 2 years younger. This is for the simple reason that while a 20 something might be attracted to someone in their 30s, it would be a lot creepier for a 12 year old to crush on a 19 year old. Instead, this way, Tali and Shep will be growing up together and the dynamic of Shep being the older, more experienced of the pair will be preserved. _

_Stephen Hackett was also born about two decades early, mostly because he's such a wonderful character to write, and because he fits perfectly into the role of first contact peacemaker. _

_Thanks for all the wonderful reviews! There is obviously an interest in continuing this story, so I will be continuing it for at least as long as interest continues. _


	3. Chapter 3

_**"The first is the otherlander, or utlanning, the stranger that we recognize as being a human of our world, but of another city or country. The second is the framling... This is the stranger that we recognize as human, but of another world. The third is the raman, the stranger that we recognize as human, but of another species. The fourth is the true alien, the varelse, which includes all the animals, for with them no conversation is possible. They live, but we cannot guess what purposes or causes make them act. They might be intelligent, they might be self-aware, but we cannot know it. "**_

_**Orison Scott Card**__** - Speaker for the Dead**_

_SSV Carl Jung - Hackett_

Five days. Had it really only been that long? Hackett could hardly believe it himself. Here he was, sitting in his hospital ship's officers mess with two aliens. Six days ago, he hadn't even really known aliens existed. Oh sure, everyone had been fairly certain there was intelligent extra-solar life after the discovery of the prothean cache, but there hadn't been any actual contact. Now, there had been; in just a few hours, leaders from both the quarian and human fleets would meet right here, on the Carl Jung. Hackett was witnessing history.

"Can I have some more juice, mommy?"

Hackett smiled down at the little tyke perched on Chief Shepard's lap. He was invited to the board meeting by virtue of the fact that his mother was currently the foremost expert on quarians, and both Rael and Gerrel seemed to really like him. Besides, it wasn't like this was a serious meeting. Well, it was, but it wasn't one where a three year old wouldn't be welcome. Currently, they were learning about human and quarian culture by exchanging customs, pics, vids, even a few stories. As Rael had said, "Who are we to say that a child does not have insight to offer on such things?"

Well, he was pretty sure that was what Rael had meant to say. It had come out more like, "We think we are wise, but child Shepard, he teach us more then vids or pics."

Currently, human quarian dialogue was not at the place where waxing eloquent was possible. They were making progress though, and between Hannah's surprisingly large Keelish vocabulary, what Hackett had picked up, and whatever English Rael and Gerrel had between them, they did alright.

Actually, now that Hackett thought about it, little Johnny was a foremost expert on quarians himself. After all, he and his mother had spent most of their waking hours with quarians since the Belari had arrived. They had needed to jury rig and envirosuit small enough for the kid, but the quarians had been very helpful there after seeing the boys difficulties. They didn't have any children onboard a warship, but they were experts and modifying tech. What they had done with the Alliance gear they had got their hands on was nothing short of incredible. They had already created crude translators for themselves, and for the Alliance, as well as showing the Alliance engineers how to optimize their drive cores, and a dozen other things.

Leaning toward Gerrel as Rael and Hannah fussed over Johnny, Hackett whispered, "You know something, I think this is the start of a beautiful relationship."

Gerrel jerked back. "You wanting to be linked suits with me?"

Now it was Hackett's turn to jerk back. "Link suits? What are you talking about?"

"To have relationship with me. To link our suits, ah, air, and um, things in air that are too small to see. Ts'alfum."

"Woah, not that kind of relationship!" Hackett laughed. "No, I mean friendship. Alliance. Our people, working together."

Gerrel chucked as well, waving his three fingered hands to show no offense was taken. Funny, those hands didn't even look that strange to Hackett now.

"Learning new language, is strange, yes?" Gerrel said. "When I learn sari, ah, many confusions there."

"Sari? Is that another language of your people?"

"Oh no, is language of asari. Different people. Ah! We not tell you! We not only two species in galaxy. Rael, we not tell them about asari! Ah, asari. Everybody love asari. Want relationship with them! Too bad asari not love quarians."

Gerrel made a picture of a strange blue alien woman, at least, with a rack like that, Hackett hoped it was a woman, standing on a platform of some kind.

"What do you mean, Gerrel, asari don't love quarians?" Hannah asked, now that her son was happily sipping from a tippy cup.

"Quarians, we ah, we no loved." Rael answered. "When geth take Rannoch, we kicked out galactic family. Citadel Council, they think they run galaxy. Quarians once part of Citadel, allies. Provide aid, support, military, economic," Those had been two words Hackett and the quarians had taught each other in a hurry, "like what we wish with Alliance"

"So why didn't they help you when the geth rebelled?" Hannah asked.

Rael made a noise reminiscent of a human fart, probably something Johnny had taught him. It was cultural after all. "Council, they no good. They say they help, they say we have to follow their rules. But when we need help? They laugh. Kick us out, no help. No food, no medicine, no planet. Call us suit rats. Not good word, bad, like word you not say in front of child. But is what they call us. Council only interested in what you do for them."

"Hmm. How many races on this council are there?" Hackett asked, playing for time while he thought. The revelation that there was a galactic body of some sort was interesting. The quarians also sounded like outcasts of some sort. Why, Hackett couldn't be sure. They seemed nice enough, but what was the whole story? It had something to do with the geth he was sure, but why kick the quarians out if they were the victims?

"Plenty races. Turian, salarian, asari, big three. They big, tell every other race what to do. You follow rules, or turians attack you. Kicked out quarians, gave krogan sickness that kill babies, do lots of bad things. Other races, they do what turian, salarian, asari say. Elcor, volus, hannar, drell, sometimes batarians, they all do what big three say."

"Don't the other races have a voice in galactic policy? What about humanity, what would be our place?" Hackett pressed.

Gerrel laughed, then shook his head. "You new. If turians find you trying to activate relay, they shoot you. We not shoot, we not care if you activate relay. Humans free to do what humans want, quarians not tell them what to do. But against council law to do so. Turians, quarians, we not get along. Turians strong men of council. They have big ships, big guns. Lots ships, lots guns. They shoot first, ask questions maybe."

"No negotiations?" Hackett asked, stunned. That was a stupid policy. To his mind, if you found a child, which at this point was what humanity was on the galactic stage, playing with fire you didn't try to kill or hurt them. You took them out of danger, then taught them what to do.

"Turians think guns work good for negotiations." Rael answered. "You new, Hackett. Turians, asari, salarians, they not give, ah, cannot say, child here, but they not care. Asari maybe act like they care, but they let turians kick you plenty before they act. And when finished kicking you, not give you voice. You do what they say, or maybe asari not care so much if turians kick you."

"That's rather disturbing." Hannah murmured, frowning down at her son who was happily coloring a new picture while the grownups talked about boring things. "So they wouldn't give humanity a voice in galactic policies at all?"

"Council not change since before quarians leave Rannoch. Long time." Gerrel stated. "About 12 quarian lifetimes. Think quarians probably live same time as humans, little more, little less. When quarians part of council, we not have seat. Just do what council say. We screw up, not help. Just kick. All council good for. Kick."

_HWS Stern Judicator_

Admiral Sparticus frowned at his display. "Hmph. That's the Belari alright. And it's little friends. Look pretty primitive, don't they Saren?"

Sparticus's aid, Corporal Saren Arterius, nodded. "Indeed. Shouldn't be too much of a problem, Admiral."

Sparticus let out a heavy sigh. "Primitives. They never learn. And consorting with suit rats? It's like they WANT to get into the galaxies bad graces. Gunnery, give them a salvo. Teach them who the real power in the galaxy is."

_MFBS Balari -Berga_

There are moments in time that become more than just fading memory. They are where history is made, instants were the direction for an entire galaxy is determined. Encapsulated forever in the hearts and souls of nations as reminders of why we fight, why we live.

First Lieutenant Berga'Otorus was experiencing such a moment. Turian warships had just popped out of nowhere. They were barely on the Balari's scanners, and they certainly were not on the Alliances. Berga had just snapped off a warning to the humans, when a call came from her gunnery station.

"The turians have fired! One of their dreadnaughts rounds is headed straight for the Carl Jung! It will cut right through their barriers!"

"Move to interpose." Berga snapped, not even pausing to think about the implications for her of what she was saying. "Warn the humans to get out of here. Now."

"Aye aye, ma'am." Turl answered, his voice steady.

Berga felt nothing but calm in the few seconds she had remaining. Her ship could not take a direct hit from a turian dreadnaught, which in her last few seconds of life, was what the _Balari _was moving to do. What the Belari could do was absorb enough of the impact to allow the Carl Jung and its crew of innocents to escape. She closed her eyes and thought of the grinning, bright eyed young human who had been on the bridge the day before. He was on the ship she had just saved.

" Keelah se'lai, Johnny'Shepard nar Arcturus." She whispered, not noticing that she still had an open channel to the human ships.

"Keelah Se'lai," her bridge crew murmured.

Berga never felt the round that killed her, and all hands aboard the Belari. But the entire galaxy did.

_MFBV Tonbay, Shala'Raan_

"Ancestors, what was that!"

Raan stared at her screen, total disbelief was all she could think. "The Belari... She just entered evasive maneuvers, then exploded."

"RAEL!"

That was Kleeah'Zorah. Now a widow in all likely hood.

"Keelah, that was the turians! They just opened fire on the humans and on our ship! Three human ships destroyed and the Belari!"

"All ships, this is Admiral Vexxu'Herato. Engage the turians. Don't let another one of those human ships get destroyed!"

Raan was glad for the orders, all she could see was her new niece, now fatherless.

"You heard the Admiral!" Raan roared, facing her crew. "Get over there and blow those metal faced ancestor fuckers out of the skies!"

_HWS Stern Judicator -Sparticus_

"Admiral Sparticus, I just picked up multiple quarian ships on my scanners. They appear to have entered the system from just outside our range. They... They appear to making an attack run on us, putting themselves between us and the surviving alien vessels."

"You cannot be serious." Sparticus sneered. "Quarians, taking on a turian dreadnaught and her escort?"

"Yes sir. And um, sir?"

"What is it now?"

"Um, sir, an unidentified dreadnaught and its attendants just entered the system."

_SSV Everest - Grissom_

"The hell am I seeing!"Fleet Admiral Jon Grissom roared, staring at his readout. This was supposed to be a mission of peace. The aliens were supposed to be their friends. What the HELL was going on?

"Sir! The quarian ship, the Belari, it took a shot for the Carl Jung! Unknown alien vessels fired upon them sir. Those other ships though, they appear to be attempting to interpose themselves between the aggressors and our surviving ships. I think the friendlies are the quarians sir. The other ones, I don't know."

"I know what they are Lieutenant. Dead meat. All ships, open fire!"

_The Battle of 314, AKA, The First Battle of the Second Contact War, AKA, the Turian/Independent League Conflict_

The Everest was the first ever Alliance dreadnought, one of two so far with two more on the way. Compared to a turian dreadnought, it was both laughably underpowered, clumsy, and with barriers that wouldn't do much against anything in the turian arsenal.

None of that mattered a damn though when the Everest was facing the enemies exposed underbelly. Underpowered in comparison to a turian dreadnought, the Everest still packed a punch. Her first shot was blocked when one of the other aggressor ships sacrificed itself in the same manner the Belari had. The second and third drained the Judicators shields. The fourth crippled her engines.

After that, the turians claimed they performed a tactical withdrawal. The truth was different. The truth was, the remaining ships fled before the fury of their two enemies fleets, working for the first, but not the last, time in concert. By turian standards, quarian ships were pieces of junk and human ships were primitive jokes. The turians were not laughing though, as they were outnumbered by 3-1, and in a rather horrible position, caught between Grissom's task force and Herato's expedition, and now down in the dreadnought count.

Human and quarian ships rapidly fell into a classic pincer movement, trapping three turian cruisers and five frigates, forcing their captains to scuttle their ships and evacuate. To Admiral Sparticus's credit, he too scuttled his ship before evacuating, and along with his faithful aid Saren Arterius, was the last turian to leave on the last life pod.

_SSV Carl Jung - Johnny_

Johnny wasn't sure why is mommy was crying, or why the man with the blue hat was crying, or why the pink mask man was crying, or why the loud mask man was crying. He wasn't crying, but he was hugging his mommy. That's what she did when he cried, and maybe she would stop crying if he hugged her hard enough.

"Mommy, why are you crying?" Johnny asked, his lip trembling. Maybe he would cry too. He was feeling pretty sad now.

"Shhhh. Shhhh. Come here, my little dino." Mommy whispered. She picked him up and cuddled him, and the world was warm and safe. Everything was always safe when mommy held you, and nothing bad could happen.

"Gone, they're all gone." The pink man cried. Johnny could understand him, even though he spoke a funny talk, not like mommy. He could understand a lot of talks, though the pink mans was the funniest. He had always been able to figure out the other kids at the day cares talks pretty fast, and they had lots of different talks.

"Who's gone mommy?" Johnny whispered.

Mommy hugged him tighter, and Johnny almost asked her to stop, but she was still crying, so he just hugged her back. "The quarians on that ship we visited yesterday, they just saved us from something very bad."

"Oh. But that's good, right?"

"Yes." Mommy whispered, planting a big kiss on Johnny's forehead. "But they got hurt when it happened. That's why we are sad."

"Oh. Well, I could draw them a picture. You always feel better when I draw you a picture."

"Why don't you do that sweetie. Your crayons are right over there."

Johnny set to work while his mommy went over and cried some more with the pink man. Everyone was very sad, but Johnny didn't really understand it. The loud noise and the bright lights were over, so why were they still sad? Me drew a picture of himself and the funny people on their ship. They had all been very nice, letting him push buttons, and spin things, and even crawl under stuff and get dirty! Mommy didn't usually like it when he got dirty, but since he had been in the weird clothes, she had said it was OK.

When he finished, he took the picture over to mommy and the pink man. "I drawed this for you."

The pink man stopped crying and bent down, carefully taking the picture. "Thank you, Johnny Shepard. May the spirits of my crew find it a suitable offering."

"Soup bowl off ring." Johnny agreed. For some reason, that made mommy and the pink man cry some more, but mommy picked him up and hugged him, so it was OK.

As long as mommy held him, it was always OK.

_MFBV Saafa - Admiral Vexxu'Herato_

"You're lucky, Sparticus. If it wasn't for the fact that I don't want quarian pilgrims getting executed by the turians, I would convene a court marshal right now and shoot you myself."

"You have no authority to do that. The Council would eat you suit rats for breakfast if you tried."

"YOU ARE ON MY SHIP. YOU KILLED MY PEOPLE. THE HELL I CAN'T TURIAN." Herato tried to remind herself that losing her temper wouldn't do her any good. But she had had a son on the Belari, who had been so excited to serve under Captain Zorah. Now her son was dead.

"In a perfectly legal action. Your ship was aiding in the activation of a relay. That's against Council Law."

"The humans have no knowledge of Council Law! How are they to learn if you kill them!"

"If you don't enforce the law, no one has any respect for it."

Herato could feel herself losing it again. "Get this bosh'tet out of my sight." She growled. Two marines manhandled Sparticus away, and Herato snorted.

"He actually thinks what he did was right!" Herato seethed to her aid.

"Well, perhaps in the brig he will see the error of his ways." Her aid, Zaal'Koris observed.

"Not likely. I've yet to see a turian bend his neck. And I have no idea how we will feed all these prisoners. The Alliance certainly can't."

"The emergency stockpiles will last until the rest of the fleet meets us at the humans Arcturus Station. We'll figure out what to do after that." Koris stated.

He was right, but that didn't make the fact that all her able bodied crew were going on half rations to feed their enemies any easier. "If only we could let the humans feed them. That would be a sight to see."

"You know, I'm not the blood thirsty sort, but I am halfway tempted to agree Admiral."

"Ancestors help us! Cool Blood Koris actually wants to see someone dead?"

"After what the turians did to the Belari and the humans, you're damn right I do ma'am."

_SSV Carl Jung - Hannah Shepard_

It was a historic moment, but for all the wrong reasons. Jon Grissom, leader of all of humanities fleets, was shaking hand with one of the leaders of an alien nation. But they were not meeting to discuss trade agreements, cultural exchanges, or anything good and healthy like that. They were meeting to discuss war. The Jung was already en route to Arcturus station, and due to the fact that quarian and human ships could barely communicate at sublight speeds, let alone at FTL, necessitated they meet on neutral ground. And after the Balari's crew had sacrificed themselves so that the Jung could live, both sides seemed to consider the Jung one of their own.

Hannah was translating for Fleet Admiral Grissom, and Rael for Admiral Vexxu'Herato.

"So, the turians. What do you believe is their next move?" Hannah translated.

"Probably to move against both our peoples in force. Thank you again for offering to shelter the Migrant Fleet, Admiral. No other people has offered us aid in over 300 years."

"It would be an insult to the sacrifice of the Belari to do otherwise. Humanity sticks by its friends, and knows who they are. I cannot imagine a greater proof that the quarians are the friends of humanity then the actions of the Belari's courageous crew. I just wish it had not been necessary."

"I wish the same, but wishes will not bring back the dead. The turians likely do not know where your bases are, or where your colonies are. But by the location of the 314 relay, and the direction your fleet entered from, they will know where to start looking. And the course of the migrant fleet will be easy to chart, even with the planned evasive maneuvers. You cannot hide 50,000 ships entering and exiting FTL."

"Humanity isn't interested in hiding. If the turians want us, we'll be ready for them. But I say we strike first. They drew first blood. Time to pay them back."

"I could not agree more Admiral, but we must use caution. The turian ships are superior in every way to our own."

"Agreed. But you have some idea of the disposition of their fleet, and what locations are open to surgical strikes. The turians declared war when they opened fire on our ships. Let's give them one."

"Yes. Tactics. Just how many colonies does humanity possess at the moment?"

There was a bit of discussion at that, finally, Admiral Grissom answered. "That's a difficult question to answer, we have several colonies still in the developing stages, but I would estimate that we currently possess eight worlds with active colonies, not including any planets in the Sol system."

"That's incredible, how long has humanity known of the Relays?"

"Eight years."

That elicited murmurs of shock from the quarians, and Vexxu had to steady herself again. "So little time, yet you already have eight colonies and a dreadnaught?"

"We have two dreadnaughts actually, the Everest is the class leader, but the Fuji was completed a year ago, and the Elbrus is six months from completion. The Kilimanjaro will be finished about 18 months after the Elbrus, and contains several dramatic improvements and upgrades."

At this point, there wasn't much Grissom would have been able to say that would have shocked Vexxu.

"I see. And if the we were to assist with the construction?"

Grissom shrugged. "I imagine we could get the Elbrus finished in a few months, and the Kilimanjaro done in under a year. I'm more concerned about getting the carriers finished though. We only have one of those, it took us longer to figure out how to make economical fighters then capital ships."

"Carriers?"

"You know, ships that carry small craft into battle. Bombers, fighters, that sort of thing."

"I have never heard of such a ship. We will have to discuss that at length."

"The turians don't have carriers?" This was Hackett now, and his eyes gleamed almost as brightly as a quarians.

"No, no race fields a ship that is exclusively a small craft platform."

The two human admirals shared vicious grins. "Really," Grissom purred. "Well then. Perhaps this war won't be so impossible after all."

And so it went on, for hours and hours. Hannah should have become weary and sick of it, but she didn't. All she could think of was the fact that her son was still alive because a quarian crew had decided to save him. There was nothing Hannah could have done, no action she could have personally taken to keep the light of her life safe. But the Belari had been able. And they had done so. No sacrifice to honor them was too great. No act to much to ask. To avenge the Belari, Hannah was ready to do anything.

When the talks finally finished, Hannah and Rael both headed to the nursery. They stood outside a few moments, watching. Rael's wife, Kleeah, was playing with Johnny and Tali, her infant child. Tali was only about 9 months old, but she crawled around in what the humans had dubbed "the hamster ball," giggling and squealing with pleasure as Johnny chased her. Gripped firmly in three of Tali's chubby fingers was a plastic dinosaur.

"She's too cute." Hannah said, leaning up against the glass. "But I can't imagine my child having to spend her life in a ball.

"She's too young for a suit. She won't get one for a few more years, on her fifth birthday. It's what we have to do though. After so long in sterile environments, our immune systems couldn't hold off a fraction of the contaminates present on this ship."

"Still, to never be able to hold her? Not to be able to share a touch, a kiss, a hug? I don't know how you do it."

"We do what we have too. And we hope that one day, our children won't have to grow up in a hamster ball." That was said with just a touch of humor. Once what a hamster ball was had been explained to him, Rael had taken to calling Tali "His Little Hamster." No one had had the courage tell the quarians that "Suit Rat" translated to something very close to hamster ball. Besides, the humans meant it in affection, not scorn.

"Maybe that will be someday soon. We've got an awful lot of scientists back on Earth. And humanity owes the quarians a pretty big debt."

"I pray it will be so. But that was not a way I wished to incur your peoples debt. I..."

Hannah put her arm around the ex-captain. "Hey, it's OK Rael. You shouldn't have been there. I'm glad you weren't. Without you, I would never be able to translate all that stuff. And that would set back our relations by weeks. Time we don't have."

"I know you're right Hannah. But that doesn't make things any easier." Rael sighed and stood. "Come on. At least our children can remind me why my crews sacrifice was worth it."

_SSV Carl Jung -Tali'Zorah_

The world was such a bright place, full of so many interesting things. The new person, the laughing one who growled, was so fascinating! Tali laughed whenever she saw him. He didn't look like the mother person or the strong person or the gentle person or any of the other persons. Something was strange about him, but Tali didn't really know what. The mother person and the strong person liked the laughing person though, so Tali liked him too.

Tali liked lots of things, though not the barrier. The thing that kept her from touching the mother person, or any of the other persons. Tali wished she could go back to the warm place, where the mother person had held her and given her warm food from the food place. But now Tali's food came from something else. It was still good, but she missed the mother person.

Just then, she was lifted up and she saw the father person. He was making the happy face, so Tali laughed and smiled. That made more happy faces, and Tali laughed and smiled some more.

The world was such a bright, happy place.

_SSV Carl Jung - Johnny Shepard_

"Mr. Zorah! Mr. Zorah! Babytali has a dinosaur! It's one of my old ones! Look it!"

Johnny was happy. There were lots of new friends to play with now, and they all talked the funniest talk. Some of them were bigger then Johnny, some of them were smaller, but they all seemed to be nice. The best one though was Babytali. She had one of Johnny's old dinosaurs from somewhere. In most three year olds, this would have provoked a fit. But Johnny was the generous sort, and not one to whine when someone younger and weaker than him took his toys. They didn't know any better after all, and Johnny would rather teach them what was better then try to force them to do things his way.

"So I see." Mr. Rael said, setting Babytali back down in her ball.

"Why is Babytali in a ball?"

"So she doesn't get sick."

"Will I have to be in a ball? I got sick one time."

"No you won't Johnny. Maybe someday, Tali can come out of her ball and play with you."

Johnny's face lit up at the prospect, and he bent down and looked Babytali in her glowing eyes. "You hear that Babytali! Someday we can play together with no ball!"

"Ba!"

"She talked!" Johnny shouted, and all the adults crowded around and made cooing noises. Johnny copied them, content in his own little world.

Many of the adults wished they could join him.

_Palavan Command - Adrian Victus_

"How did the primitives' dreadnought manage to cripple the Stern Judicator, Lieutenant Victus?"

"Sir, the primitives' dropped out of FLT on her flank, inferior to her on the orbital plain. We had no warning they were even coming. We were also unaware of the quarian presence beyond the Belari."

"Hmm. So your report says. Very well Lieutenant, explain why you were late in patrolling the 314 relay."

"Sir, I elected to extend my patrol to monitor Migrant Fleet activity. I thought the suit rats, er, the quarians were up to something."

"Your suspicions appear to be correct, as we have noted. You did well Lieutenant. If it was not for your warning, we would have no knowledge of this new threat. The quarians have long been a disgrace to the galaxy. Return to the barracks for your next assignment, Captain Adrian Victus."

"Sir!" Victus saluted, and executed a parade ground about face, marching out of High Command with all the poise he could muster.

It felt like a weight had just lifted from his shoulders. Victus had thought the Admirals had called him in to crucify him, but instead he had just been promoted. The Overwatch had been one of the few ships to escape the aliens trap, and High Command was not happy with the situation. One thing about the turian military though, if you were a subordinate following orders, you were rewarded no matter the outcome. Victus wouldn't want to be Sparticus just now, and for the sake of the Admiral, hoped he had perished in the battle.

One thing was certain though: the quarians and their strange new allies had just bought themselves a whole galaxy of trouble. The entire Hierarchy was mobilizing, all the fleets were being called out. Full scale war was at hand.

_SSV Carl Jung - Rael'Zorah_

Even with the massive case of survivors guilt he was experiencing, Rael still managed to feel pretty good. The Jung was still a day out from Arcturus, and Rael was free for a few hours to spend time with his family. They were sharing quarters with Hannah and her son, which meant that by quarians standards, the accommodations were spacious and luxurious.

Right now though, Rael was alone in the compartment with his wife. Hannah had taken the two children for a few hours while Rael got some much needed time alone with his mate.

"When I saw the Belari destroyed... Rael, my heart broke. The thought of Tali growing up without a father..."

"I know. I should have been on that ship, with my crew. As captain..."

"You were doing your duty. It's not your fault. It was the turians."

"The turians. Anytime something good seems to happen to our people, those metal heads show up and try to destroy it."

"I don't think they can destroy this. I like Hannah, even if I have a hard time talking with her still. And her son, he's adorable. Tali seems to like both of them as well."

Rael chuckled and pulled his wife a little closer to him. "Ah yes, our daughter. I suppose between the two of you, I do have something to live for still, don't I?"

"You do Rael! I don't want to lose you. Being away from you, with the baby is hard enough. But if you died..."

"I can't promise I won't, my heart. You know there will be war with the turians now."

"Yes. And you have your duty." Kleeah sounded half bitter when she said that.

"No, I have you and Tali. Duty be damned. I'm not going to let anything happen to either of you. Our daughter WILL have a bright future. If her father has to sacrifice his to make that happen, then so be it."

Kleeah shuddered, and Rael knew she was silently crying. "I know Rael, I know. Its just, wouldn't it be a better future if you were there too?"

"I won't argue with that, I don't plan on dying. But I don't plan on letting others fight for me either. Hannah plans the same thing. We both will be needed on the front lines for battlefield communication. It won't be glamorous or even that dangerous possibly, but it will be vital."

"That's a comfort, at least."

"You'll probably be conscripted too. You speak better human then most with all the time you've spent in the day care. They might need you to translate as well. "

"I won't go into battle willingly, not with the baby, but I will do what I can. For our daughter."

"For our daughter."

_**Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends.**_

_**Christian Bible, John 15:13**_

_**There is no greater calling, no greater purpose, then one who would give up his life for another, though the other has earned it not.**_

_**The Book of the Ancestors, Fifth Scroll, the Wisdom of Ancestor Yttel'Venish**_

_Authors Note:  
And so the note for this fic is established. Yes, there will be heartache. There will trials by flame and ice that stretch the races of the galaxy to the limits. There will be severe concequences for the alteration in the ME timeline that will bring great sadness to those who know how things could have happened differently. _

_But there will also be hope. By the end of this fic, I want the reader to think, "man, I really wish the quarians had been the first contact in the games. Things would have been so much better..." Because despite the tragedy of the Belari, their sacrifice was worth it. It meant something. Ultimately, the Meek WILL Inherit the Galaxy. But it's going to be a long road there. _

_On another note, I cannot begin to thank my readers enough for all the positive feedback I've received. Originally, this was intended to sort of just be a one shot "what if" project that expounded on my love of the quarian people (and my inner Talimancer). But when you get more than thirty reviews on your first chapter all asking for more, and then your second chapter gets even more positive feedback, as an author, that does something for you. As such, as a thank you for all the support and because people obviously want to hear more of this story, And the Meek Shall Inherit the Galaxy will continue. For now, I'm putting it on the same update schedule that Keelah Se'lai has, which is every four days. Depending on how that works for me personally (and how it works for my readers) I might adjust that in the future. _

_As always, thanks for reading, and REMEMBER THE BELARI! _


	4. Chapter 4

_**"People of Earth, I come before you with grim tidings. Recently, we learned that we are not alone in the galaxy, and made first contact with the quarian crew of the Belari. Today I tell you that the friendship of the quarians is beyond doubt, and their intentions beyond reproach. When another alien vessel, commanded by a barbaric race known as the turians, discovered our fleet, they fired upon our defenseless hospital ship with no warning. To prevent the deaths of our own civilians, the Belari gave themselves in the ultimate sacrifice. Other quarian ships arrived on the scene, and with Admiral John Grissom drove off the turian menace. Our thoughts and prayers go out to the quarian people, and we mourn for the brave sacrifice of the Belari." **_

_**"Today humanity stands on the precipice, with a race utterly bent on our annihilation for no better reason then that they deem themselves the masters of the galaxy. Humanity must rise to this occasion or we are doomed. But we do not stand alone. The quarians too have come under attack by the turians, and I have personally approved Admiral Grissom's offer of shelter and aid to the migrant quarian nation. They shall be arriving at Arcturus station in less than a week, where we will begin preparations for war."**_

_**"Now is the hour of humanity's test. Shall we be found wanting, and relegated to a footnote in some alien conquerors trophy room? I say no! We shall stand with our quarian brothers and sisters, and together defeat the turians and their bloodthirsty fleets! If they seek our doom, it is their own they shall find! With the aid of the quarians, it is the turians who shall fear us!"**_

_**"But we of the systems Alliance cannot do this alone. We need your help. As of now, we are selling war-bonds and asking for all able bodied men and women to volunteer for military service. If you cannot serve, you can aid those who do so by buying bonds and welcoming the quarian people into your homes. This is not a war of conquest, or of petty bickering or land grabs for resources or national pride. This is a fight where our very right to exist is at stake. If we fail, our homes, our children, or lovers and our very way of life will be destroyed. To survive, we must have a strong Alliance. For a strong Alliance is a strong humanity, and a strong humanity is one that will remember this storm."**_

_**"Remember the Belari! Keelah Se'ai."**_

_- __**Alliance Prime Minister Yoon Hyori, public address to the Sol System, July 20th 2157 **_

_Arcturus Station - Hackett ****____July 23rd, 2157_

"This is Rear Admiral Hackett aboard the SSV Carl Jung. The alien ships on your scanners are quarian, our allies. Confirmation, 'Able brought his sheep before the Lord.'"

"This is Fleet Admiral Carlos Rodriguez. I am receiving similar confirmation from Supreme Fleet Admiral Grissom. Welcome home, Carl Jung. Tell our guests we heard about the Belari. We will honor their sacrifice."

Hackett turned to Rael, who nodded. "I understand. I'll pass it along to the Admiral."

In the five day trip from 314 to Arcturus, the quarian's English had improved dramatically, as had Hackett's keelish. In fact, there were not many sailors aboard the Carl Jung, or any other human ship, who hadn't picked up at least a smattering of the quarian tongue.

"I just wish this was a proper welcome, instead of the prelude to war." Hackett sighed.

Rael shrugged. "It is what it is, as you humans say. My crew knew what they were doing. It's in our operational doctrine for a warship to sacrifice itself to save civilians."

"That's humanities doctrine as well, but it doesn't change anything. They will not be forgotten. And the turians will not be soon forgiven."

Before long, Hackett was on the shuttle with Admiral Grissom, Senior Chief Shepard, Rael'Zorah (apparently, quarians didn't keep their rank if they lost their ship) and Admiral Vexxu'Herato, along with the various aids and flunkies. It wasn't a cheery group. They should have been returning from a mission of peace. Instead, they were survivors returning from battle.

The shuttle docked, and it's passengers departed, each one walking side by side with their alien counterpart. Leading the assembly were Hackett and Rael, in recognition of those lost under their command. Normally, Hackett would be walking to an investigative hearing to determine just why three vessels under his command were lost. But not today. It was silent, with ranks of Alliance personal in dress blues and grimfaced members of the media recording the progress of the party down the open corridor.

From somewhere, Hackett thought it was one of the members of the press, someone yelled, "Remember the Belari! Keelah Se'lai!"

"The Belari! Keelah Se'lai!" In moments, the entire crowd had taken up the cheer, and the hanger reverberated with a hundred human voices shouting to honor fallen aliens.

Hackett's long stride took him away from the shouting soon enough, but the sound followed them. Along their path, service personal and civilians had taken up the cry.

"The Balari!"

"Keelah Se'lai!"

"Remember 314!"

"Never forget!"

"Keelah, did you plan this?" Rael asked in keelish, his voice rough.

Hackett shock his head. "I didn't. Someone might of, but this looks spontaneous to me."

Rael was silent the rest of the way to the temporary parliament chamber.

The entire Alliance Senate and more than a few dignitaries from Earth crowded the makeshift chamber. The permanent housing for the Senate was still under construction, and would not be finished for several more years if everything went according to schedule. Hackett took his seat at the table a steward led him to, his name engraved a gold plate before him. Rael sat at his side, his own name in Keelish before him. The rest of the members of the quarian and human delegation also seated themselves.

Inside the chamber, the atmosphere was grim. No one was cheering. These men and women were aware of just how much danger humanity was in.

Prime Minister Yoon Hyori stood, bowing formally to the seated visitors. "On behalf of all the peoples of Earth, I welcome our friends the quarians to Arcturus station. I wish that these were happier times, but right now, we must ask for the quarian people to explain to us just what sort of situation is developing." She had spoken in English, so Hannah quietly translated for Admiral Vexxu'Herato.

The quarian admiral nodded, then stood. "We thank you for the warm welcome, madam president," she said through Hannah, "not since our exile has any race freely welcomed our people. Long have the turians and the other members of the so-called galactic ruling body turned us away when we needed food, shelter or medicine. I am afraid your situation is dire. The turian military will mobilize for full scale war.

"Rarely before have the turians mobilized their entire force. Not since the krogan rebellions, when the turians committed the slow genocide of an entire race by infanticide have the turians readied their fleets. They will do so now. By attacking and destroying a ship of the migrant fleet and the allies of the quarians, they have officially declared war. While the quarians possess the largest fleet in the galaxy, over 50,000 vessels," at this, a sharp intake of breath could be heard, humanity possessed just over 1000 ships, including civilians models." "-But out of our ships, only a fraction are capable of making war. We lack the resources to modify our ships for combat, and most of them contain our civilian population."

"Question." A young senator called, his thick brogue giving Hackett his identity. Donnel Uduna, from Ireland. "What if your civilian population no longer needed to remain aboard those ships?"

Hannah translated the question from Vexxu, who looked up at the brash young man. "And where, exactly, would you put more than 17 million quarians?"

"Why, probably Earth, Terra Nova, and Shanxi. Those are our most developed worlds. I've heard you can't eat our food though, we'll have to manufacture green houses and the like. That shouldn't be much of a problem; our industry is already spun up for colonial gear."

Hackett found himself nodding, along with most of the other humans in the room.

"You would do this?" It was Rael speaking, he was standing, looking straight into Udina's eyes.

"Of course. It's not much of a repayment for the sacrifice of your ship's crew, but if it would solidify our alliance and allow you to refit your ships for battle, with our assistance, naturally, it should give us a fighting chance against these turians."

"You would share your worlds with us?" This was Vexxu, also standing now.

Now Udina looked confused. "Well, yes. Why wouldn't we? Our colonies are all sparsely settled at the moment, and even Earth has room for more with all the colonists that have left. After all, we're asking an awful lot of you, to throw your lot in with us against the turians."

All the quarians began talking at once, and Hackett couldn't follow the conversation. His keelish was pretty good, but he couldn't keep up with the pace or number of voices that were talking.

Vexxu's voice suddenly drowned out the others. "Enough! Sit." She turned to Prime Minister Hyori. "Do you also agree with this?"

Keying in something in her datapad, Hyroi addressed the Senate. "All in favor of immediately granting unlimited immigration visas to the quarian people on all human colonies, please stand."

Hackett did a quick mental count, and determined that no one was sitting down.

"Motion carried. Admiral?"

_Arcturus Station - Vexxu ****____July 23rd, 2157_

Vexxu did not even hesitate. "Done."

"Very good. I'll see to it that our colonial authorities and the nations of Earth are notified to begin preparation to receive your civilian population. We'll have to work out the logistics later, especially the food situation, but room will be made for everyone."

Leaning on the table, Vexxu had to fight back tears of pure joy. For the first time in over 300 years, her people had a home. For the first time in 300 years, her people had friends. For the first time in 300 years, the quarians were wanted, no needed, in another's territory.

"Now, as for military preparations," the human leader continued, "what do you suggest Admiral?"

"A moment." Vexxu gasped, sinking into her seat. She couldn't believe it. Not in her wildest dreams when she had heard of an opportunity for an alliance with a new species had Vexxu imagined they would offer the quarians a place not just on their colonies, but on their homeworld. It made her head spin.

"Forgive me, honored hosts, but I never imagined such a welcome." Vexxu managed after a moment.

"It's alright, Admiral. Take your time." This was her translator, Hannah'Shepard.

Vexxu nodded, took a deep breath and sat up. "The turians are going to probe your, our, lines, starting with the 314 relay and working their way backwards. They can trace the migrant fleet to an extent as well, though once we make the jump to FTL the turians will only be able to approximate our heading. We will make several short range jumps out of system and take several different routes, but you can be sure the turians will have a general idea of where we are headed."

"As such, we're going to have to send out patrols." Hackett explained. "Admiral Grissom, myself and the quarians have outlined a plan to deter turian incursion into human space. We're going to have to defend several systems that have no value, simple to misdirect the turians and keep them from our home turf."

"Yes, here are several systems we have highlighted as possible choke points for the enemy..." Vexxu stated, bringing up the systems on her omnitool. Despite the focus on war, Vexxu was quivering with joy inside. Her people had finally found a home.

**_Liveship Rayya, High Earth Orbit - Unna'Xevish, August 17th, 2157_**

"You really think this isn't all just some trap, Admiral?"

Unna sighed and turned to Pilla'Tris. "If I thought this was a trap, we wouldn't be here. The humans seem sincere enough."

"And what if it's just some scheme to get our ships from us?"

"Please Pilla, it's not like were abandoning the Rayya or any of the other ships. What species would risk having an entire navy, a navy with superior weapons, shields and technology, in its homeworld's atmosphere just to try and steal a few ships? We outnumber the human ships 100-1 right now."

"No one is ever this happy to see us." Pilla grouched.

She wouldn't be satisfied unless humans showed up with the keys to Rannoch Unna decided. Her ships officers grumbling was interrupted by the docking tubes airlock door opening and a human striding out.

"Many welcomes friend!" He said, or at least that's what Unna's crude translator thought that was what he said. There were not enough live translators to go around, so the quarians and humans were making do with crude VI's. Not nearly as effective as a live translator at this stage of the game, but you worked with what you had when you were a quarian.

"Am being Ramón Gerardo, man from Earth. Very many happies come from see you!"

Unna stepped forward and shook the humans hand. He had on an evirosuit out of respect for the quarians aboard their own ship, though soon on Earth that wouldn't be necessary. "Admiral Unna'Xevish, leader of the Civilian Fleet. It's good to see such a friendly welcome."

The human cocked his head to one side while he listened, his own translator struggling to keep up with Unna's words. "Ah yes, welcoming quarians! Come, we show you new homes. Very good for you, giving one my homes just for friends."

"One of your homes?" Pilla asked, not quite understanding.

"Ah, building you live in? Yes, building, have many buildings. I what you say, lots of money? Make many inventions. Now, use money, inventions to help quarians. Quarians, humanity, future together. Alone, no good. Turians kill."

That was something Unna could get on board with. "United we survive, alone we die. Lead on, Ramón Gerardo."

As leader of the fleet, Unna and Pilla would be the first onto Earth's surface. As far as they could tell from scans, there were no expected problems, but it didn't hurt to check. They boarded the humans ship and took off for the surface. Once again, Unna was struck by just how new human equipment was. It wasn't top of the line, but for first generation stuff, it wasn't bad, and it was certainly built to last.

In a few minutes, they landed on the planet's surface. A grinning Ramón led Unna outside, where a cheering crowd waited for them. This was astonishing to Unna, as a sea of human faces, young and old, male and female, from a color palette that was shocking, cheered on the quarians. An honor guard of human soldiers stood by, crisply saluting as Unna and Pilla walked forward. An enormous sign, depicting a human and quarian shaking hands among the stars with the words in keelish, "Keelah Se'lai, Friend," painted below them.

"Do you know what that means?" Unna asked Ramon, pointing to the sign.

He looked up and shrugged. "We think blessing? Not want to offend if not. Only know, last words of Belari. Try to honor them."

"It means, 'by the homeworld I wish to see one day!'" Pilla supplied, crowding close to Ramon.

"Ah, this bad? Earth not Rannoh, but we try to help, share what we have." Ramon answered, glancing up at the sign.

"No." Unna said, not taking her eyes off the sign. "I think it's perfect. Send an image to the fleet, Pilla. Keelah Se'lai indeed."

**_Uncharted System 614719-UAA, HWS Creed of Augustin - Derrus Legioni August 23rd, 2157_**

"Anything?" Derrus demanded, her own eyes searching the instruments carefully.

"Not yet ma'am, commencing long range scans and launching probes."

Sighing, Derrus leaned back and scratched her headplates. War was here, but for now, war was boring. Endless scans of empty systems, trying to get a lock on where the primatives and the suit rats had fled too. Boring as hell, to be sure.

"Contacts! Looks like three hostiles just lit off their engines and are closing in fast."

"Cruisers?" Derrus demanded. Her own cruiser was operating alone, and couldn't hope to take on three enemy ships of her own weight class, even primative and quarian ships.

"Um, one frigate and two fighters ma'am."

"Are you certain? Are they masking their emissions?"

"To broadband for that ma'am, we've got a clear read out. They appear to making an attack run."

"One frigate and two fighters against a cruiser?"

"Looks that way."

"Move to intercept, but on an elliptical that will let us rabbit out of the system if we have to. They can't hope to take on a Hierarchy warship. What the hell are they playing at?"

_SSV Dunkirk_ - _Commander Sun ****__August 23rd, 2157_

There on the scanners was Sun's death, and the death of his entire crew. They couldn't hope to actually kill the turian ship, not when it was superior to Sun's own ships in every imaginable way. But that wasn't the point.

"Aim for their engines. We have to prevent them from penetrating further in to this system." Sun ordered.

"Aye aye."

His crew knew what was at stake. All of them had family back on Earth or on one of the Colonies. This system didn't contain anything of value, but if humanity fought like hell to keep it, perhaps the turians would waste a few more precious days that would allow Earth's industry to spin up a little more. A few more converted quarian ships, another dozen fighters, a few hundred more trained marines. Anything to give Earth an edge.

"It has been a pleasure serving with you all." Sun stated, and his crew nodded their silent agreement, their faces grim as they ran toward death with open arms.

_HWS Creed of Augustin - Derrus ****__August 23rd, 2157_

"Spirits, was that it?" Derrus was breathing hard as she stared at multiple emergency lights on her panel. The primitive ships had been destroyed, but at a steep cost.

"I think so ma'am, but scanners are now offline. We're basically blind until we get them repaired."

"Engines?"

"We'll have those up in a few hours at most ma'am."

"Good. Get us out of here. The primitives are hiding something here. High Command needs to know about this system."

**_Atmosphere Above Shanxi - Darro'Xen September 7th, 2157_**

"This is to be our new home, then?" Xen asked, peering through the shuttle viewport at the green world growing rapidly closer below her.

"For now. Ancestors, can you believe it Xen? A planet, one that actually wants us?"

"As long as they have the resources I need for my lab, I don't care if they want us or not."

The Ikomi was one of the ships that had accompanied Admiral Vexxu to Arcturus, and had been dispatched to Shanxi to check it's suitability for quarian settlement, along with several other ships. They had a greenhouse ship with them, and the humans had already started construction of sealed farms to allow the quarians to grow bumper crops of dextros based foods.

"Have you heard what they gave to the quarians that went to Earth? I don't think we're going to be lacking for supplies."

Xen grinned behind her mask. That was the nice thing about working with humans. Sure, they didn't have the best toys, but what they did have, they had a lot of. As a pragmatist, Xen understood what the humans were doing. They had the resources, but not the tech. Quarians had the tech, but not the resources. Together, they were far more effective. Xen laughed quietly at the planet approached. Bleeding hearts may claim their noble morals were why the two peoples were getting along, but anyone with a brain could see the real reason.

**_Palaven - High Admiral Regulus Ceezar September 18th, 2157_**

"A dozen more reports of extreme resistance from the primitives and the quarians sir."

Ceezar twitched his mandibles slightly. "Any noticeable difference in the level of resistance anywhere?"

"No sir. They fight to the last to defend any system we so much as poke our noses into. Unless we go in with a full cruiser wolfpack, the idiots charge right in. Even then, if it looks like they might be able to do some damage, they come in anyway. They're losing more ships then we are, but it's bogging us down."

"Giving them more time to increase their economic production." Ceezar mused. "Impressive. In a straight focused fight, we would have them cold. But this little shadow campaign prevents us from bringing the full might of our fleets to bear."

"It would seem that way, sir."

"Hmmm." Ceezar tapped at his mandibles for a moment, then highlighted a half dozen systems. "Send in four dreadnought task groups to each of these systems, with a charted course in these directions. We'll find their base of operations at some point, and against a dreadnought group, their little suicide runs will only cost them."

"But sir, using dreadnoughts as a scouting force?"

"An invasion force. Let's see where they draw the line. Maybe we'll even get lucky."

"Yes sir."

**_HWS - Tribune of Mascartes - General Septimus November 6th, 2157_**

"Got you." General Septimus spread his mandibles in a wide grin. And after only scouting three systems too. Their hadn't been any resistance before now, though Septimus had a feeling that any forces the primitives and the suit rats might have had had elected to lie dormant until the massive dreadnought group had gone through.

Admiral Tiberian answered with a grin of his own. "Indeed. This looks like those primitives homeworld. They've got at least as many ships around it as we recorded at 314. No dreadnaught though. But there are several of the suit rats ships."

"Just get us into orbit. My men and I can secure a dirtball like this with our eyes closed." Septimus boasted.

Tiberian nodded. "I am worried about that dreadnaught though. Could cause a lot of damage if we don't watch ourselves."

Septimus snorted. "You have four dreadnaughts will you. What are you worrying about?"

"What do you think that poor bastard Sparticus thought?" Tiberian asked. "He certainly wasn't expecting those primitives to have a dreadnaught, and who knows where the rest of the migrant fleet is? I'm not going to make the same mistakes Sparticus did. We fight this one smart. I'm holding half the fleet in reserve and sending in the rest to secure that primary planet."

Grudgingly, Septimus gave his assent. "Alright. As long as you get me dirt side. Time for a little payback on the suit rats and the primitives."

**_Landing, Shaxi -General Williams November 6th, 2157_**

"Damn. That's more than four times the size of the force that Admiral Grissom took out."

"Doesn't change a damn thing. Two times or four times, the fleet will never be able to hold, even with the quarian reinforcements." William's declared, slamming his armored fist onto the consol.

A nervous tech looked up at his commander. "What do we do sir?"

"Get me a public broadcast." The General ordered. It didn't take long, Shanxi had an emergency broadcast system built into every communication device on the planet.

"Citizens of Shanxi. The turian fleet has arrived. Our forces cannot hold, and will be forced to retreat. We all knew that this was a possibility. So I ask you, people of Shanxi, shall we surrender to these murderous savages? Will we roll over and play dead?

"I say no! Let this be our battle cry! Remember the Belari! No quarter, no mercy! These monsters showed us none, and when our fleet arrives to relieve us, we shall show them none!

"Remember the Belari!"

All across Shanxi, men and women gathered their children and supplies and headed for the safety of the hills. They had drilled for this ever since word of the turian menace had arrived two weeks ago. None of them had any intention of surrendering. They all knew what was at stake.

**_Shanxi - Corporal Zaeed Massani November 20th, 2157_**

"This is goddamn brilliant." Zaeed chuckled as he loaded the explosives onto the turian shuttle.

The quarian engineer made a disapproving sound. "You humans insane. Turians never fall for this."

"Worth a goddamn try!" Zaeed laughed. "We're tired of those metal bastards shooting us up from their little hidey hole up there. So now we're giving them a little present, see."

"Never work. To many explosives, shuttle not even fly."

"You're the one who goddamn made them. Should have made them lighter."

"Aww come on Xen, you're the one who said we needed a use for this thing." That was Jonsey, one of the members of what was left of Zaeed's squad.

"You go ahead, blow selves up. I stay here, record data." Xen huffed.

Her companion, a quarian tech, silently continued to load bricks of explosives on the shuttle. Now there was an alien with a pair, Zaeed had to admit. They called him Silent Jessie, though he could speak quarian well enough, Zaeed had realized that Jessie had lost someone important to him with the turians took out the fleet in orbit. Zaeed liked bloodshed and violence as much as the next guy, but Jessie had disemboweled a turian with an entrenching tool while giving the most unearthly howl of rage Zaeed had ever heard.

"Done." Jessie stated, climbing into the shuttle and taking the pilots seat.

"You heard the man, anybody that wants some revenge get on. The rest of you ladies can stay here."

None of Zaeed's squad was on the ground in a moment. They had all see the camps. Men, women and children herded like animals, and treated like them too. Anyone who resisted was marched out to posts in front of the camp and shot, in full view of the forests and hills where the resistance was hiding. Above the polls was a sign in English, "Penalty for resisting the law. Surrender or die." It didn't make Zaeed want to give up. It made him want to kill ever turian in the goddamn universe.

Jessie's piloting skills got them up to the turian cruiser that was hovering above the ruins of Landing. He chattered away in the strange quarian language, using that strange hologram to fake the flanging metal sounds turians made. Zaeed couldn't make out much, but he could tell Jessie was claiming communicator trouble with wounded aboard. It must of worked, because a hanger door on the cruiser opened and Jessie set the shuttle inside the cruiser.

No sooner had the shuttle settled down then Zaeed hit the door switch and started blasting away. "Surprise you metal bastards!"

Surprised they were, at least for a few seconds. Then the turians who were not cut down in the initial salvo drew weapons and returned fire. Their own weapons and armor were far superior to what Zaeed and his squad had, and Jonesy and Merowitz were down in seconds.

"Follow." This was Jessie, grabbing Zaeed by the shoulder and leading him toward a second shuttle. "Escape. Kill more turians later."

"Sounds like a good goddamn plan to me!"

Jessie hacked the shuttle open while Zaeed bashed a turians skull in with the butt of his rifle, cracking the plastic open. Zaeed scooped up the fallen turians weapon and shot another alien in the face, laughing hysterically as another turian tried to blink away his comrades brains.

"Go, now."

Zaeed turned to yell at Salazar to get her ass over to the shuttle, but she was slumped against a crate, her own brains decorating the wall. Swallowing the order, Zaeed jumped inside just as his own weak barriers finally gave up the ghost. He glanced over at Silent Jessie, who had a suit puncter and was bleeding profusely from a belly wound.

"Well that looks bad." Zaeed muttered, taking the co-pilots chair.

"Die now. You kill more for me." Jessie gasped as the shuttle took off.

"Not unless you land this goddamn shuttle!" Zaeed shouted, bracing himself as Jessie's flying became more erratic. He glanced back, just in time to see the turian cruiser rocked by a massive explosion and plummet to the ruins of landing, causing an explosion that leveled anything with two bricks still on top of one another.

"Most goddamn beautiful thing I've seen in my life." Zaeed muttered, slapping Silent Jessie on the shoulder.

Somehow, Jessie got the shuttle to the ground. Zaeed dragged him away, but he could tell the quarian as done for. Still, he felt bad for the quarian when he had to leave his cooling corpse behind. Glancing at his new gun, Zaeed grinned.

"I think I'm gonna call you Jessie. Let's hope you can kill as many men as that poor bastard did, eh girl?"

That night, Zaeed made his way back to a rally point and met up with another of General Smokey's little resistance bands.

"Did you see that turian cruiser explode?" One of the women asked him.

"Goddamn right I did." Zaeed growled. "Felt it too. I was the only goddamn man to make it out alive. Lost my whole squad hijacking that second shuttle. Lost our quarian too, Silent Jessie. Named my gun after him."

"Really?" The woman asked, leaning a bit closer to Zaeed. She was ripe, smelly from days of fighting with no baths, but Zaeed didn't notice. So was he.

"Goddamn right. Wanna see the combat vid?" He smiled at the woman. They would survive the night together, and tomorrow, they would fight and probably die. But what did it matter? If you were already dead, you might as well live a little.

_Authors Note:_

_Damn people, you sure know how to make an author happy! More than 60 reviews for the last chapter was the best birthday present ever! So happy birthday to me, and to Commander Shepard on this glorious April 11th. _

_Hot carrier action next chapter ;)_


	5. Chapter 5

_Anyone who clings to the historically untrue - and thoroughly immoral - doctrine 'that violence never settles anything' I would advise to conjure up the ghosts of Napoleon Bonaparte and of the Duke of Wellington and let them debate it. The ghost of Hitler could referee, and the jury might well be the Dodo, the Great Auk and the Passenger Pigeon. Violence, naked force, has settled more issues in history than has any other factor, and the contrary opinion is wishful thinking at its worst. Breeds that forget this basic truth have always paid for it with their lives and freedom._

_-Robert A. Heinlein, Starship Troopers_

_**Arcturus Station - Kleeah'Zorah **_

_**December 6th, 2157**_

"Auntie Kleeah, when's mommy going to be home?"

Kleeah sighed and picked up the worried toddler, hugging him close. "Soon, Johnny. First, she has to do something very important, OK? She'll be back just as soon as she can."

"But when's that?" Johnny demanded, and Kleeah could see the tears forming in his eyes. He had distraught when Hannah was deployed, and since then Johnny had been more than petulant. He had never been separated from his mother for this long before.

Glancing around, Kleeah spied Tali happily rolling her ball toward them, her dinosaur clutched firmly in a chubby hand. "Oh look, Tali wants to play dinosaur!"

That seemed to cheer the young boy up, and he started babbling away in a mixture of keelish and human Kleeah only understood half of. She sighed and slowly stood, smiling down at the two children. Crisis averted, for the moment.

"Come home soon. Both of you. Your children need you," Kleeah murmured, hurrying to keep up with her two charges.

_**SSV Albert Einstein - Rael'Zorah**_

_**December 7th, 2157**_

"ETA to transit, 30 seconds."

Rael braced himself unconsciously, glancing over at the grimfaced Admiral Grissom.

"So, you really think this carrier will work?" Rael asked.

He wasn't sure himself, but the quarian admiralty had been more than willing to throw their support behind the effort, contributing 35 cruisers and their frigate packs to the massive joint fleet, headed by the two human dreadnoughts and their new carrier. The quarians had gone all out on the carrier plan, converting 20 of their 35 cruisers to miniature versions of the Einstein in the past months, nearly tripling the number of fighters and bombers the fleet was carrying. Rael still doubted the effectiveness of strike craft though; he was a dyed-in-the-wool old school void-sucker.

"You watch that vid I gave you?" Grissom growled, his mind obviously elsewhere.

Rael nodded. What the Battle of Midway had to do with their current situation, he wasn't sure. How could fighters in space be the same as planes on ships that actually moved on water?

"Then you had damn well better believe I know this will work."

"Translating now," the navigator called.

Rael swallowed. This was going to be interesting. "If we win, I'll give you my omnitool," he muttered in keelish.

"Done!" Grissom answered. "Prepare to launch fighters!"

_**HWS Tribune of Mascartes - Admiral Tiberian **_

"New contacts plotted. Identifying. Confirmed as primitive and quarian forces."

Tiberian frowned at the display for a moment, then broke into a predatory grin. "Well, well, well. Looks like we're finally going to have something to do other than blast away at smoke and mirrors. Assume Waiting Maw formation. Those idiots only barely have the edge in cruisers and frigates, and we out number them by two dreadnoughts."

"I think that might be three dreadnoughts sir," His LADAR technician observed. "That secondary capital ship, the larger one, doesn't appear to have a main battery. It looks like some sort of support craft. A large number of fighters are launching from it."

"What sort of idiot builds a ship that only carries fighters?" Tiberian laughed, shaking his head in amusement. "Spirits, these creature are primitive."

_**MFBV Tonbay- Shala'Raan**_

"Wait for our fighters to engage their dreadnoughts, then make an attack run at our designated target," Raan ordered her helmsmen.

"Aye aye ma'am."

Inwardly, Raan was sweating. Thousands of years of military tradition told her that the scheme the Admiralty and their human counterparts had cooked up was doomed to fail. No one, not even the salarians, had ever constructed a carrier before. Dreadnoughts were just how it was done. Certainly no one had taken modified civilian ships and loaded them down with strike craft. But they needed something to give them an edge in this fight, that was certain.

Slowly, the great dance was joined as the human and quarian fighters engaged their enemy. The turians were brave, Raan would give them that, their pilots had engaged the allied craft despite being ludicrously outnumbered. Probably trusting in their superior training and gear, Raan guessed.

As it turned out, turian gear wasn't quite so superior at the strike craft level, nor was their training superior. Turian fighters were mostly defensive in nature, and their doctrine called for a fighter screen to stick close to their home ships.

That was a mistake. Like a swarm of angry wasps, the human and quarian pilots smashed into their foes, obliterating most of the turian fighter screen. The Without the range of their enemies weapons, most of the turian fighters were destroyed before they could respond. Not used to fighters assuming an offensive role, the turians were trapped by their own doctrine and their inability to maneuver due to their proximity to their own ships.

At first, the turian fleet didn't seem to realize its peril it was in now that it had no fighter support. After all, battles were decided by massive dreadnoughts, not tiny single person ships. And then 2600 years of turian military doctrine came crashing down.

With the fighter screen removed, the human and quarian forces launched their bombers, shocking the turians into motion. The turians had believed that fighters would account for the bulk of the enemy light craft. They were wrong. The allies were aware of turian fleet composition, and their bombers outnumbered their fighters by four to one. In response, the turians launched their own bombers, a suicidal move for them. The waiting allied fighters pounced on the turian craft like a falcon on a rock dove, and not a single turian bomber got past their own lines. The lanes cleared for them, the allied bombers struck.

Raan watched in amazement as the first line of turian screening cruisers and frigates simply disappeared in balls of nuclear fire. Many of the human and quarian strike craft were shot down by the turian GUARDIAN laser point defense, but there were simply too many for the turians to get them all, and once the pilots had the effective range of the turians defenses locked in, only a bare handful of the small craft were lost.

"Begin attack run!" Raan ordered, her pulse racing. The turian forces now in disarray, the Tonbay had easy pickings, crippling and destroying ships far outside her weight class.

"They got a dreadnought! Those little bosh'tets actually got a dreadnought!"

Cheers erupted on the Tonbay's bridge as the leading turian capital ships suddenly lost engine power and began to vent massive quantities of atmosphere. It was like the first domino falling; within minutes, the second turian dreadnought was shattered into two pieces, and the third forced to limp away from the battle with its main battery destroyed.

The last fell prey to the human's own supposedly inferior dreadnought, exploding into a dozen pieces under sustained bombardment. Their fleet broken, the remaining turain vessels immediately shut down their engines, the spacer equivalent of striking your colors.

"I don't believe it! We've beaten the turians!" Raan cheered, dancing for joy upon her captain's chair. They had just done in the impossible. For the first time in 1200 years, the turian fleet had suffered a defeat.

_**SSV Einstein - Rael**_

"Best bet I've ever lost." Rael declared, handing over his omnitool to the grinning Admiral Grissom.

"See, what did I tell you boy? Just like Midway. Metal bastards never even had a chance."

Rael nodded. "I have to agree. I think you've just changed military doctrine forever, Admiral."

"Jesus Christ, I hope not! Then we'd actually have a fight on our hands!"

The two men laughed, then joined in the exuberant celebration. The human and quarian casualties had been light, and though hundreds had lost their lives, the survivors would honor their sacrifice by fighting on.

"This war is just beginning," Rael vowed, his eyes glittering. "What are those high and mighty metal heads thinking now!"

_**SSV Rome - Adrian Victus**_

Numb, Captain Adrian Victus in the cargo bay of a primitive ship with his surviving crew. He couldn't believe it. The turian navy, the most powerful force in the galaxy, had just lost to a bunch of fighter craft. How was it even possible? He glanced up at his captures. They were primitives, that much was obvious. The craft that had retrieved his life pod was crude to say the least, though that hadn't stopped it from blowing off his starboard engines and forcing Victus and his surviving crew to evacuate.

"What do you think, not bad for a bunch of suit rats and primitives, eh?"

Groaning, Victus turned his gaze to their "translator" an uppity suit rat with a god complex named Han'Gerrel. The Han'Gerrel.

"I suppose not. Quarian."

"What was that, I couldn't hear you? I think you meant, 'quarian, sir.'"

Victus refused to answer, staring at a point in space just above Gerrel's head. The quarian turned to the primitives and said something in their disgusting language, causing the guards to erupt in a chorus of hooting noises.

"Ah, it's OK. I told them you weren't so bad. After all, at least you were smart enough to surrender," Gerrel teased with a patronizing pat on Victus' head.

Resisting the urge to growl, Victus held his peace.

"The famous turian discipline. Wonderful! We're all going to be such good friends you know, we're going to be dropping you off on Shanxi. You get to help fix all that damage you caused! Won't that be nice. I bet the locals will just love to see you..."

For the first time in his adult life, Victus experienced true terror. He was at the mercy of suit rats and primitives.

Before long, the turians were put on shuttles and ferried down to the surface of the primitive planet. Gerrel said that it was called Shanxi, a stupid name if Victus had ever heard one. A grinning primitive with a massive bandage over half its face approached and said something in his tongue to Gerrel. The quarian laughed and turned to Victus.

"This is Corporal Zaeed Massani. Your friends shot him in the head, but he lived. He's in charge of your little detachment of prisoners, as he speaks the most keelish out of any human here. Have fun!"

Victus shuddered and turned, saluting the primitive. "Captain Adrian Victus."

For his troubles, Victus got punched in the gut so hard he found himself vomiting on the ground. "Goddamn bosh'tet."

Before long, Victus learned that "goddamn bosth'et" made up 90% of the human's verbal communication. But he got his point across to the turian prisoners, or the butt of his rifle cracked down on their heads. They were here to work and suffer for the casualties the turians had inflicted on Zaeed and his comrades. All Victus could do was scurry to obey, and pray to the spirits that the Hierarchy's victory was swift.

_**The Citadel, Council Chambers - Asari Councilor Tevos**_

_**December 18th, 2157**_

"Ah, Julieus, please, sit." Tevos said, doing her best to keep her face from slipping into a frown as the turian councilor sat across from her and the salarian dalatrass, Giffin.

Remaining standing, Julieus stated. "I know what this is about."

Right to the point as always, Tevos thought. Perhaps this time they would get somewhere.

"Then perhaps you can explain." Giffin threw a data slate at Julieus, her face twitching in irritation. Salarians were such fickle beings, a product of their short lifespan, Tevos was sure.

Glancing at the pad, Julieus shrugged. "As we have already stated, those ships were lost as a part of a police action against the rogue quarian nation. We are continuing to pursue the criminals and their primitive allies and will bring them into the fold shortly. This is just a momentary set back."

At that, Tevos lost her composure. "A momentary set back?" she asked, a trace of a frown on her lips. So careless. "You call losing not just one, but three dreadnoughts with a fourth barely limping back to Palaven a momentary set back?"

"Resistance has been heavier then initially anticipated. We are continuing our suppression campaign and will soon have this ragtag bunch of criminals brought to justice."

"Ragtag groups don't have the capacity to destroy a single dreadnought, let alone four," Giffin spat. "You don't seriously believe we're going to buy that? If the quarians brought together every single one of their ships with a weapon, they might take on four dreadnoughts, but it would nearly destroy their race. And no mere primitive race could bolster their numbers enough to do so safely."

"I agree." Tevos added, "The numbers do not add up. It's time for the rest of the Council to step in before this becomes a full blown war."

Julieus remained firm. "This is a police action. The Council is under no threat, and this remains a strictly turian matter."

Tevos sighed, and sipped at her tea as Julieus finally sat and the real games began. Turians were usually so blunt and forthcoming. Had they really been beaten so badly they refused to admit it? Tevos didn't know, but it worried her. Something was happening out in the Traverse. And she intended to find out what it was.

_**Arcturus Station - Admiral Hackett**_

_**December 29th, 2157**_

"If anyone asks me," Hackett growled into his whiskey, "Which I note they are not, Operation BUSHWACKER is more like Operation MARKET GARDEN."

"Come again?" Vexxu asked, pouring herself a finger of dextros alcohol from a flask.

"An operation during the second World War in the 20th Century. The Allied forces went in with bad intel, stretched themselves too far, and paid dearly for it. We just don't know enough about the enemy's disposition."

"I agree, but Admiral Dresher and Admiral Yuless both made convincing arguments, and they have the full approval of your admirals Grissom and Rodriguez. And I have to admit, if it works, it's going to turn this war around. That's why I gave my approval."

Hackett sighed again and knocked back the rest of his drink. "I know. That's part of what bothers me. If this does work, we have a far better shot at winning. I still don't like it though; we are gambling far too much on the outcome of this one fight. Hell, we're risking the Einstein AND the Fuji. That only leaves us the Everest and the Rayya, whenever that ship is finished."

"Three months. Maybe less." Vexxu stated.

"Three long months." Hackett agreed, peering mournfully into his empty glass. "I just hope this doesn't turn into an 'I told you so' moment."

"That makes two of us."

_**SSV Erebus - Hannah Shepard**_

_**January 3rd, 2158**_

Despite her excitement, Hannah strove to remain calm as the Fuji and the rest of the fleet prepared to translate through the relay. She hadn't participated in the Liberation of Shanxi, but now she had a chance to contribute to the war effort. Admiral Dresher had made a commendable effort to learn keelish, but Hannah was still one of the best translators humanity had.

"Ready to kick some ass Chief?" Admiral Dresher asked, her eyes sparkling.

"Damn right I am ma'am!" Hannah answered.

"Good. Those bastards will never see this coming."

_**HWS Eye of the Spirits - Lieutenant Vakarian**_

Lieutenant Vakarian sat at his duty station and frowned. Here he was, stuck in the rear monitoring routine traffic when others were laying down their lives fighting the primitives and the suit rats. He glanced up at the picture of his wife and their young daughter and their infant son, Garrus. That brought a smile to his mandibles. At least here, he wasn't in any danger. In a few more months, he could retire and move his family to the Citadel and pursue his dream of becoming a member of Citadel Security, a long standing family tradition.

As he was dreaming of holding his baby boy for the first time, Vakarian jerked to full alertness and stabbed the general quarters alarm as hard as he could.

"Multiple contacts! Signatures match human and quarian vessels!"

In moments, Captain Gravus was at his shoulder. "What am I seeing Lieutenant?"

"Sir, our sensors beyond the relay just picked up a massive fleet moving in to translate through to Pheiros. They must be after our fuel supplies."

"Good work. Ensign! Get me flash traffic to fleet com. Things are about to get awfully cold here."

_**FAS* - Benefactor's Dream, Captain Tela Vasir**_

"The turians are hiding something ma'am."

Captain Tela Vasir sighed and nodded. "Of course they are. For a routine police action against a species that lives on junk heaps and relics, there are quite a few ships with battle damage and munitions resupply needs. Something's up. That's why we're here."

"Can you believe they almost didn't let an asari vessel refuel here? Since when have the turians turned us away?"

Vasir shrugged. "Leave the spy work to the salarians, Lieutenant. We're here as part of a routine patrol that was scheduled years ago. They can't whine too much about that."

"Captain! Captain you need to see this!"

Turning to her LADAR officer, Vasir's jaw dropped. "Goddess, that's the entire turian fleet mobilizing!"

The comm unit crackled to life. "Attention, FAS Benefactor's Dream. A hostile fleet has entered the system. Please evacuate immediately."

"Like hell we are!" Captain Vasir snapped. "You listen to me, we are a *Free Asari Ship, and we are your allies. Lock us in to your tactical grid. We're helping."

There was a moment's pause, then, "Locking you in now, Benefactor. Thank you."

"Time to play spy, eh skipper?"

Vasir grinned. "Looks like it isn't just the slimies that can play sleuth."

_**SSV Erebus - Hannah Shepard**_

"Ask our friends what that ship is. It doesn't match any turian designs we've seen," Admiral Dresher ordered, frowning at her display.

After a brief inquiry with the quarians, Hannah answered, "It's an asari ship ma'am, one of the other council races."

"Anything we should be worried about?"

"It's a cruiser, and the quarians say asari ships tend to be more agile and have superior firepower, but their barriers tend to be weaker."

"Noted."

Hannah continued to translate and filter orders between the quarian and human ships as the battle continued on. At first, the turians appeared to fall back before the superior Alliance forces, using a thick fighter screen to prevent a reoccurrence of the Liberation of Shanxi. They were still giving up space, and the allied fleet pressed on toward Pheiros. They didn't have to seize the fuel depot, just bombard it enough that the turians would no longer be able to use it for operations in human/quarian space. For a few brief minutes, it looked like the allied fleet was going to succeed.

Then the hammer blow fell. Once the allied fleet had maneuvered nearly into bombardment range of Pheiros, the rest of the turian armada lying doggo in the asteroid's shadow, activated their engines and came screaming in. The turian fighters, which had been acting in a purely defensive role, suddenly slashed through the allied fighters and struck at the heart of the allied formation, revealing that many of the "fighters" were in fact bombers mimicking fighters. Somehow, the turians had found a way to disguise their ships' emissions.

The resulting fight was brief and brutal. The Erebus took a savage mauling, and Dresher was forced to sacrifice her own flagship so that the Einstein and most of the fleet could withdraw. Due to the turian fighters intermixed with the bombers lurking just out of the Einstein's GARDIAN range, the human carrier was never able to launch its own bombers.

"Damn metal heads." Dresher growled, clenching her fists tight to her side.

Damage klaxons sounded, and Hannah was thrown to the ground as the Fuji shook from multiple impacts. When she stood up, Hannah sealed her skinsuit and put on her helmet, then did the same for the now unconscious Admiral. Seeing that the Erebus was lost, Hannah grabbed Dresher's authenticator and issued the scuttle orders for the ship. Then, with the assistance of another bridge officer, Hannah dragged the admiral to the lifepod and evacuated the ship.

_**HWS Eye of the Spirits - Lieutenant Vakarian**_

"We did it!" Vakarian cheered, raising his mandibles in triumph. All around him, the other turians were hooting and celebrating the complete route of the quarian and primitive forces.

All except Captain Gravus. "Something wrong sir?" Vakarian asked quietly.

Gravus shook his head. "No. We've won, after all."

Vakarian was quiet for a moment, then asked, "It's because we had to fight in our own territory, isn't it?"

The captain sighed. "Yes. We may have won, but this is a bad sign. There's no hiding this from the Council now. Those damned asari were even here to witness the whole thing. And now it's the politicians turn to screw things up."

Vakarian blanched. "Not good."

"That's how the galaxy works Lieutenant. Besides, after this, I might actually have to start respecting the humans and quarians. They're the first species to successfully stand up to us in over 1000 years."

Vakarian nodded thoughtfully. "That's true. What do you think it means?"

"Above my pay grade. Thank the spirits."

With that, Gravus turned and left Vakarian alone with his thoughts. He glanced at the picture of his family, then nodded. Perhaps C-Sec wasn't for him after all. The galaxy had just become a much more dangerous place for his son, and Vakarian wasn't going to leave the job of making it safe again to another.

_**FAS Benefactor's Dream - Hannah Shepard **_

"Shepard, Hannah. Senior Chief. Service number T-87538-23996."

The blue alien, Hannah was pretty sure it was an asari, rolled her eyes and babbled something in her language to one of her compatriots. The other alien saluted and ran off.

Hannah glanced around the cargo bay, where the small huddle of survivors from the Erebus were doing their best to look calm and professional. Many of them were wounded, and their captors were making no moves to assist them. Hannah ground her teeth. Her son was going to grow up an orphan, and there was nothing she could do.

Before long, a new alien appeared and walked over to Hannah. "You understand keelish?" the alien demanded.

Hannah nodded and replied in the same language, "I do."

"Good. Can you please say something other than your name, rank and serial number? All we're asking is if your species is levo based or dextros based. We can't treat your wounded unless we know."

"You could understand me? Never mind. We are levo based."

"Of course we can understand you!" The alien turned and shouted something to the others, who began to treat the wounded as Hannah explained what was going on to the other survivors. "How can you speak keelish but not understand sari or palavese? What's wrong with your translator?"

"I am the translator," Hannah stated. "That's what the T in my serial number stands for."

The alien frowned. "You don't have translators? How do you communicate with the quarians?"

Hannah rolled her eyes in reply. "By not shooting first and asking questions later. I've spent weeks with the quarians learning their language. They've got people doing the same thing with us."

"Goddess, you people really are primitives. I thought my bondmate's people were smarter than that."

"Bondmate?"

"Yeah, I was bonded to a quarian about 400 of their years ago, before they lost Rannoch. Damn shame that."

"If you were so close, why didn't you help the quarians?" Hannah demanded.

"Human, she was long dead by then, and I had her daughters to raise."

"Well why didn't you help your quarian children!"

The alien laughed. "Are you serious? My daughters are asari, same as me. Don't you know anything?"

The alien's arrogant attitude finally got to Hannah. "Shepard, Hannah. Senior Chief. Service number T-87538-23996."

"Fine, have it your way." The asari wandered off, leaving Hannah alone with her thoughts. And creating a bias that would poison human/asari relations for a generation.

_**Arcturus Station - Kleeah**_

_**January 9th, 2158**_

Watching the two children sleeping in the same bed, Johnny curled around Tali's Hamster Ball, Kleeah let her tears flow freely. The expedition to Pheiros had reported disaster. Hannah Shepard was among those listed as MIA, her ship, lost. Kleeah didn't hold much hope that Johnny was going to see his mother again, but she tried not to let it show. The boy seemed content enough now, even calling her Auntie Kleeah most of the time.

"What am I going to do?" Kleeah asked the darkness. She didn't know how to raise a human, didn't know what to expect or what his needs would be. But she would do it. Johnny might not be hers by blood, but he was family now. No matter what, the little boy wouldn't want for a mother.

"Auntie?" A tiny voice whispered. In a moment, Kleeah was kneeling at the bedside.

"Yes, Johnny?"

"I wet myself."

"Shhhh. It's OK, don't cry. Come on, I have dry clothes for you over here."

In a few minutes, Kleeah had Johnny cleaned and the sheets changed, and he was once again snoring next to Tali, who had mercifully slept through the whole affair.

Smiling to herself, Kleeah nodded. Perhaps she knew something about raising little humans after all. No matter what, Johnny would never lack for a loving family.

_**The Citadel - Counselor Tevos**_

_**January 10th, 2158**_

"Well, Julieus, there's no point in hiding things now, is there?" Tevos kept her face smooth, though inside she was seething with anger. For the first time since the krogan rebellions, a race had actually managed to mount an assault on Citadel Space. To be sure, the turians had repelled the attackers and crippled their fleet. But that wasn't the point.

"No. It seems not." The turian Councilor sat, and sighed. "They're called humans. They're primitive tech wise, but they're smart. So are the quarians. They've played us for time, and used that time to analyze our tactics and fleet composition. They're using a new kind of ship, one that acts as a platform for swarms of small strike craft. They've invalidated over 1200 years of naval doctrine."

"What?" Giffin gasped, choking on her own tea. "What do you mean, invalidated 1200 years of naval doctrine?"

"The Hierarchy has stopped all construction on dreadnoughts, and is looking to retire the class once our current generation of ships has reached the end of its cycle."

Slowly, Tevos set her quaking tea cup down. "You're not joking."

"No, I'm not. A single primitive capital class carrier accompanied by a lone dreadnought and an attendant fleet, mostly composed of smaller cruiser class carriers and frigates, was what took out our dreadnought task group. Their losses were minimal. I suggest you speak to your own governments about developing carriers of your own."

"But you beat them at Pheiros!" Giffen exclaimed, "Surely dreadnoughts are still superior!"

"We beat them with planet based fighters launching from hangars mimicking their tactics. Our evaluation is that if Admiral Ceezar had not adjusted our tactics to mirror the human and quarians own, we would have lost Pheiros."

Tevos just stared at the turian. What he was saying was impossible, yet it agreed with the reports she had received of the turians using highly unconventional methods to counter the strange tactics of the aggressors.

"Well then, I suppose we should try to put an end to hostilities, help you get out of the mess you're in," Tevos managed after a few moments.

Mandibles spread in irritation, Julieus snapped, "You are welcome to try! These are savages, primitives! And they're allied with quarians! Just how exactly do you propose to make peace with them?"

Tevos smiled. "I may have an idea. The asari have several human and quarian prisoners of war, and I know all of us have been rounding up quarian Pilgrims. If we put all of them on a ship with a diplomatic envoy, preferably of neutral races, and send them back home as a gesture of goodwill, I am certain we can negotiate."

"I wash my talons of this entire affair. Do what you want." Julieus declared, throwing his arms up dramatically. "If you want to risk diplomats on an insane gambit, feel free."

"You have my support Tevos," Giffen stated. "I can provide an STG bodyguard. Effective, but not as threatening."

"Will you cooperate, Julieus?" Tevos asked.

"Oh, we'll give you as many prisoners as you want. But don't come crying to me when this whole thing blows up in your face."

"Julieus, don't be so dramatic. The quarians at least are reasonable, and fairly peaceable. If we all try to get along and act civilly, things will work themselves out."

_**Citadel Docks, Kar'Danna nar Qwib Qwib**_

_**February 7th, 2158**_

"Move it, suit rats. Today's your lucky day!"

Kar flinched away from the laughing turian. For months, he had been cooped up in prison. Originally on pilgrimage on Digeris, he had been scooped up and left to rot with no explanation for months. Then had come the sudden transfer to the Citadel, and now this.

"Do you know what's going on?" he whispered to a female walking alongside him, by the look of her, another pilgrim.

"No., She whispered back, glancing around. "I was on Illium, then they locked me up for a few months, then they shipped me here. Something about the Migrant Fleet declaring war on the Council."

"That's crazy!" Kar hissed, keeping an eye out for guards as they walked. "Why would we do that?"

"I don't know. But I hope the fleet kicked these bosh'tet's in the cochlea."

Kar could only nod before they were all herded into an open area that was already filled with aliens. One of them, a female by the look of her, came over and smiled at Kar.

"Hello, I'm Senior Chief Hannah Shepard, formerly of the SSV Erebus." She said in perfect keelish, to Kar's astonishment. "What ship were you on? Were you at Pheiros?"

"No, I was on pilgrimage to Digeris." Kar stammered.

Hannah frowned. "Digeris, that's a turian world, isn't it? That was one of our possible targets. Did a task force hit the metal heads there?"

"No, he's a pilgrim, Hannah. A child, out on a journey to prove his worth." An older male quarian said, coming up and nodding to Kar. "Berr'Reegar vas Tsuvaa nar Fwarr. These are the humans, pilgrims. Don't worry, they're friends."

Kar could only nod in dumb amazement; glancing around, he saw quite a few older quarians speaking to the pilgrims, with more than a few humans joining in.

"Do you know what's going on?" Kar asked the human timidly.

Hannah shrugged. "Nope. We were rotting in an asari brig, then all of a sudden they decided we needed to come here. Who knows what the hell they're up to. Don't worry though kid, we'll take care of you."

Unsure, Kar glanced at Berr, who nodded. "She's telling the truth. The humans gave us a homeworld. You can trust them. And no matter what, watch their backs. They're the only ones who have ours."

"You started it. I remember the Belari." This was another human, another female with a large bandage on her head.

"The Belari? What happened to her ship?" This was the female pilgrim Kar had talked to before. "My sister, Berga, she was an officer on the Belari. I'm Shali'Otorus nar Rayya."

Hannah's eyes suddenly misted over, and she pulled Shali into a hug. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Hannah whispered. "The turians killed your sister. She died saving me and my son, and all the crew of the Carl Jung."

Kar was stunned by the sudden display of affection, and so were quite a few of the other pilgrims.

"Hey, her sister was on the Belari!" A human suddenly shouted in keelish.

"The Belari!"

"Remember the Belari!"

**"Remember the Belari!" **

In moments, every quarian and human in hearing distance was shouting at the top of their lungs, including Kar. He didn't know why he was shouting, but it felt good to be holding a human's hand. It was the bandaged female's, he didn't even know her name, but he was shouting along with her. It was obviously irritating the C-Sec guards, and Kar liked that. The shouting continued for about ten minutes, then petered out. Just as Kar was getting ready to ask the bandaged human what was going on, a C-Sec Captain came into the room.

"Alright, which one of you has the highest rank?" he demanded in broken keelish.

The bandaged woman stepped out from the crowd and gave a rather sloppy salute. Kar got the impression she was trying to insult the salarian. "Admiral Kasteen Dresher. I'm the senior officer here."

Kar looked around, but none of the quarians stepped forward. In fact, all the adults looked ready to jump the salarian on the human leader's orders. Kar decided he would be, too.

"Hmph. That agrees with what I have here. Alright, we're putting all of you on a ship. You're going to have a diplomatic team with you, hannar, asari, and elcor. They'll be going with you back to whatever primitive backwater you yokels call home. They are to negotiate the terms of your specie's surrender. The quarians' too, I suppose."

"Oh, are they?" The human asked, her voice dripping with poison. Kar decided right then and there that he liked humans.

"Yes, yes. We're taking all of you to the ship now. You should be able to find your way back home. Tell your leaders that our terms will be lenient if they comply. No one wants to see this pointless war continue, even if it is with suit rats and primitives."

Kar growled, and he wasn't the only one. The salarian backed up a step, hand on his weapon. Dresher held up a restraining hand, and there was immediate silence.

"Thank you, so much. Lead on to the ship."

Kar hurried to keep up with group, whispering to Hannah, "Do you really think they'll let us go?"

She gave him a grin that reminded Kar of a krogan, or possibly a vorcha. "I think once they get us on that ship, there won't be much choice."

The ship they were led to was an ancient asari merchant vessel that had more than enough room for the hundred or so pilgrims and POWs. Kar could feel a sense of excitement in the air, and he himself was anxious to see the human's homeworld. Especially if they really were sharing it with the quarians.

Once everyone was on board, a smiling asari flanked by a hannar and elcor, stepped forward. "Welcome! I am Matriarch Benezi, head of the diplomatic envoy on this ship, I-"

As the asari droned on, Dresher quietly leaned toward Reegar, and whispered something. He nodded and leaned toward Kar. "When we get out of range of the Council's ships, we're going to seize the ship. Find something to use as a weapon, and position yourself near a vital system or a guard. Act peaceably. The word is, 'Remember the Belari.'"

Kar nodded, then quietly moved toward a salarian with a gun in his hands as Benezia droned on about her ideas regarding inter-species cooperation. "Wow, is that one of the new Nexus line omni-tools?" Kar asked nervously.

The salarian nodded absently. "Yes, yes. You quarians are always poking at things you shouldn't."

"Man, all I have is this old Cipher my dad gave me before I left the fleet. I figured out how to program it to do some basic med scans though. Mind if I test it out on you?"

"Do was you wish, quarian."

The minutes dragged by slowly. The POWs and pilgrims had spread out around the main deck, with a few filtering off toward the engines or other vital areas. The salarian guards appeared bored out of their minds, obviously considering conversation with quarians and humans to be beneath them. Mostly ignoring what the people they were supposed to be watching were doing, in favor of talking to one another or one of the diplomats. Finally, just as the ship was making the transition on the mass relay, Admiral Dresher shouted "REMEMBER THE BELARI!"

"REMEBER THE BELARI!" Kar screamed, activating his overload program, then grabbing the stunned salarian while Hannah savagely beat him with her own shoe. The salarian was quickly subdued, and Hannah disarmed him then ran toward the sounds of fighting echoing through the ship. Kar scampered up the stairs to the bridge, where Benezia was holding a biotic barrier in place around several of the hannar and elcor.

"What is the meaning of this!" she ranted. "We are a peaceful envoy! We are meant to negotiate with your people, not start another-"

"FOR MY SISTER YOU BOSH'TET BITCH!" Shali screamed, glowing blue with her own biotics and slamming into the barrier hard enough to disrupt Benezia's shield.

Kar rushed in and tried to attack an elcor, but was knocked to the ground by one of its massive limbs. Before the elcor could kill Kar, Reegar fired into the floor twice with a stolen mass accelerator. "EVERYBODY DOWN OR I START KILLING!"

The diplomats quickly complied, and were tied up. Benezia was bound hand and foot, then unceremoniously tossed in the hold with the rest of the guards and diplomats.

"How many casualties?" Dresher asked one of the quarian officers.

"Two of the guards are dead, and we have a dozen wounded. Nothing too major, Kar here has the worst of it. He's got two cracked ribs."

"I'm fine, Admiral." Kar wheezed, nodding to Dresher.

She walked over and gently patted his shoulder. "You did good kid. I saw you take out that guard with Chief Shepard. Good work. And tackling that big ugly thing! Ballsy." The Admiral looked around and pointed to another quarian. "Right, you, Vressor, set a course for Arcturus. We're going home people!"

A cheer went up from the liberated prisoners and even though it caused him intense pain, Kar shouted along with the rest. He had a HOME. There were people, even aliens, who cared about him. There was a lot Kar didn't understand, but he knew this: he would do anything for a human, and he would remember the Belari.

_Authors Note:_

_A special thanks to my beta reader chefteena, who helped me out with this and many other projects I have worked on. Hopefully with the new formatting and additional editing, this will be easier for everyone to read ;) I always try to listen to peoples feedback, and while I can't take every suggestion I get, I do read and attempt to reply to everyone. Last chapter was especially awesome in regards to feedback, so hopefully these changes will improve life for everyone. _


	6. Chapter 6

Speak softly, and carry a Big Stick. You will go far.

-Theodore Roosevelt

_**Arcturus Station - Hannah Shepard **_

_**February 10th 2159**_

"Mommy mommy mommy mommy!"

Hannah leaned down and scooped her screaming son into her arms, tears of joy streaming down her face. After over six months away from home, she was finally back.

She laughed and cried, planting kisses freely on her son as he laughed and wiggled. He had matured since Hannah had left; in just a few months, he would be turning four years old. Hannah was grateful her son had flourished under Kleeah's care, but she was glad he would have his mother back, at least for a while.

"It's good to be home," Hannah whispered as she huged her son close.

"Those alien bosh'tets held on to you long enough," Rael agreed, coming forward with his daughter.

Hannah noticed that Tali had grown as well. She was out of her little hamster ball and in a miniature envirosuit. Tali was even standing and walking with assistance, and Hannah hugged Rael before bending down to study his daughter.

"She's gotten big. So have you Johnny."

Johnny held tight to his mothers leg and whispered, "I really missed you mommy," Normally Hannah didn't want Johnny to be clingy, but today she was willing to make an exception.

"Well, I'm all debriefed and I've got the evening free, what are we doing?"

"Why celebrating the return of the conquering heroine!" Kleeah laughed. "Come on, we have a party ready for you."

The party turned out to be a quiet affair in the joint Shepard/Zorah quarters, where Kleeah showed off her newly developed levo cooking skills with several of Hannah's favorite dishes, including rice and real beef teriyaki fritters. Hannah wolfed it all down, grateful for some real human food. The asari fare had been adequate, but it had always tasted like ash in Hannah's mouth. She found it hard to enjoy food when imprisoned and separated from her family.

When she saw dessert Hannah laughed and complimented Kleeah on her chocolate chip cookies. "I do like these, but I think they are actually someone else's favorites," she teased, tickling her chocolate-faced son's bulging tummy.

"Sounds like I was given faulty intelligence." Kleeah declared in mock exasperation.

After everything was cleaned and put away and the children had laughed and played themselves into exhaustion, Hannah tucked her son into bed and joined the Zorah's in the small living room.

"I can't thank you enough, Kleeah. I knew my son was in good hands while I was gone. Some days, that was all that kept me going."

"It was my pleasure. You've done so much for us and for our people, the least I could do was watch over your son."

"I noticed Tali has her own suit now. I thought baby quarians didn't get a suit for until they were five?"

Rael nodded. "Back on the flotilla, you would have been right. We didn't have the resources to create envirosuits for those who couldn't care for them or would outgrow them in just a few months. It's different now. We even have a built-in clean room here in the apartment. Eventually all the quarian living quarters will."

"I think that's Rael's favorite part," Kleeah teased and snuggled closer to her husband.

When Hannah just gave them a blank looked, Rael explained. "For quarians to be intimate, we need a sterile environment like a clean room. We've been hard at work trying to get a baby brother for Tali."

"Or sister." Kleeah added.

"I'm very happy for the two of you," Hannah assured them. "I hope there will be lots of little quarians running around Arcturus soon.

"With the birthrate restrictions imposed by living on such limited resources lifted, I predict a bumper crop of quarians." Rael laughed.

"You had restrictions on birthrates?" Hannah asked, confused. "There was a quarian on the SSV Nuts who was Berga's sister."

"Yes, we heard Shali'Otorus was returned. Losing her would have been a tremendous blow." Rael stated.

"Shali was what we call a lottery baby," Kleeah explained. "Her parents won a lottery to have a second child, and lucky for the quarian people they did. Shali is the strongest biotic the quarians have seen since we left Rannoch."

"She's a bit of a star among the quarians," Raal agreed. "Something of a miracle child. I remember when Berga got an amp for Shali from a salvage operation we did on an asari merchant vessel that had been attacked by pirates. It was the latest model of Savant at the time, and Berga modified it for quarian physiology. She was so excited she could give that to her sister as a parting gift for Shali's pilgrimage."

"I've heard of biotics before, and saw the asari use some strange powers, but I thought it was tech. You're talking like it's space magic or something."

Rael shrugged. "It's not magic. Biotics are individuals with the ability to control mass effect fields with their own nervous systems. A biotic is created when they are exposed in-vitro to element zero. Since quarians live on sterile environments, our own bitoics are incredibly rare. Shali's mother was aboard a ship with a faulty reactor and got a nearly lethal dose, but it lined her womb with eezo. She was pregnant with Shali at the time, and nearly lost the baby. Shali survived, and her biotics manifested very early on."

Hannah nodded slowly, frowning. "I was exposed to raw eezo when I helped rescue trapped eezo miners. I didn't know it at the time, but I was pregnant with Johnny. Could he be a biotic?"

Kleeah shrugged. "It's possible, but not every child who is exposed manifests. You'll know in a few more years, but until then it's hit or miss. Even if he does have eezo in his system, that's no guarantee Johnny will be a biotic."

Hannah nodded, and the conversation moved on to happier topics. It was good to be home.

_**Arcturus Station - Benezia T'soni**_

"What are the Council's plans?"

Benezia kept calm, resisting the urge to blast this primitive mongrel with every bit of her considerable biotic force. It had been disturbing enough when a suit rat - quarian- had managed to disrupt her barrier.

"The council sent me as an ambassador to make peace with your people. There was an entire delegation, but your Admiral Dresher beat them senseless, then set threw them in the hold."

The human just laughed at that. "I know, I've seen the reports. Good for her, I say. We don't buy your story one bit, we know you were sent to spy on us. We don't usually execute our prisoners or you'd be breathing vacuum right now. In fact, that's still on the table if you don't cooperate. So tell me, what are the Council's plans?"

"I already told you. They wish to make peace. I was sent to negotiate a cease fire."

The human leaned forward, his eyes lit with madness. "Oh yeah? Then why are turian fleets still invading our territory? Why are two of our colonies still under siege? This peace talk is bullshit, and both of us know it. So tell me, what are the Council's plans? Are they after Arcturus? Earth? Will they hit Shanxi again?"

Leaning back in her chair, Benezi massaged her temples. "Look, the Council just found out about your people's situation. The asari and salarians had no idea things had gone so far, or that the turians were even at war with you. We thought it was a police action."

"BULLSHIT!" The human slammed a pathetically quaint paper picture of an asari cruiser down on the table. "That's an asari ship. You are an asari. It was at the Battle of Pheiros. You knew about this all along."

"That was the first time we realized the scale of the conflict. I assure you, if the asari were to go to war with your people, which they might if you insist on continuing this treatment of me, they would not send a lone cruiser."

"Fuck you bitch! If we so much as smell an asari fleet, you're taking a long walk out a short airlock!" The human was leaning over Benezia now, his rancid breath assaulting her face. She clenched a fist, but before she could use her biotics a new voice sounded over the speakers.

"That's enough, Commander. Come out, I'm handling this now."

The new voice was strange, it's keelish heavily accented, though understandable. The human glared at Benezia, muttering, "bosh'tet politicians" and stalked out of the room.

In a few moments, a new human entered, bearing a tray of steaming beverages that smelled wonderful to Benezia's tired body. This human had a thick matt of red fur on its head, and was smiling ruefully at Benezia.

"I apologize, Matriach Benezia. The military types can be rather boorish at times. I've had them transfer your custody to my office. The senate is much more reasonable with its demands. Would you care for some tea?"

"Please." Benezia answered. The human set the tray down on the desk between them and handed her a cup. She inhaled the rich scent, and sipped at the steaming beverage, relaxing slightly. Maybe this human was civilized, unlike that uncouth lot on the Passenger of the Winds.

"Again, I must apologize for your treatment on your ship. Admiral Dresher is a courageous woman, but she is lacking in foresight."

"I understand. It's rather like dealing with the turians. All saber rattling and brute force, no civility."

"Quite. Now, I understand you are here to negotiate a cease fire? What are the terms the Council is proposing?"

Smiling, Benezia began to lay out the proposed offer in dulcet tones. She watched the human carefully for a reaction, but other than mild interest, he betrayed no other emotion. A chill went down her spine. Surely, she wasn't being played by this juvenile, was she?

_**Arcturus Station- Donnel Udina**_

"Like getting campaign funds from retirees," Udina cackled as he sat in the command room with the other members of the interrogation team.

"I thought asari matriarchs were supposed to be wise and powerful," Admiral Dresher snorted. "Not innocent little girls who fell for the good cop bad cop routine at the drop of a hat."

Zaal'Koris gave a bitter laugh. "They're just not used to anyone even trying. Asari just assume everyone knows that they're better than them. The thought that someone would try to hoodwink them would never cross an asari's mind."

"That's all very nice," Prime Minister Yoon said, ending the side conversation. "But what exactly are we going to do? Her terms for peace are unacceptable. We are not allowing any armed inspection team to our naval yards, or to Earth."

"Agreed," Admiral Vexxu stated. "But what can we do? We cannot hope to stand against the might of the entire Citadel Council, not now."

"Commodore Perry." Zaal'Koris stated.

"Yes, yes that might work." Undina agreed, rubbing his chin.

Vexxu looked at her aid, who explained, "A famous human. He opened up negotiations with a foriegn power by parking a fleet of warships off their coast. Udina and I had a long conversation about the history of quarian and human diplomacy. The message Perry sent was clear: you negotiate, or we shoot."

"You want to intimidate the Citadel Council?" Vexxu asked, shocked at the idea.

The prime minster nodded thoughtfully. "When was the last time anyone stood up to the Council or threatened them with a serious show of force? If we send the refitted Rayya, the Everest and the Einstein, it will look like we have a lot more capital ships then we really do. It might just open the Council up to more flexible terms. They clearly don't want a long drawn out war, and if we advertise that that is exactly what they would get with us, they'll be more willing to see things our way."

"And if we do so at the same time as our campaign to liberate Terra Nova and Watson, they'll know we really do have the capacity to keep them on their toes." This was Admiral Dresher again.

"Will we be able to retake those worlds?" Udina demanded.

Dresher shrugged. "We should. They're both being attacked by turian dreadnought led fleets, and the Davis and Fuji will be spearheading the action to retake Watson, where the larger force is. We're hitting Terra Nova at the same time with a mixed force of mostly cruiser-carriers and frigates for a hit and run campaign. The bigger dreadnoughts can't hope to ever catch up to such a mobile force, so they'll either have to sustain heavy losses to engage us with their light forces or quit the system. But as Pheiros proved, this is never a sure thing."

"I think that's good enough for our purposes. If the turians take heavy losses, it will sour the war for the rest of the Council," Yoon stated. "Udina, Koris, you two will head up the delegation."

"Us?" Udina asked before he could stop himself. He and Koris were both rather junior to be leading such an expedition.

Yoon nodded. "You're both talented, but I think you both know the real reason I'm sending you."

"We're expendable," Koris muttered.

Udina didn't let that douse his spirits. Here was a chance for fame and power beyond his wildest dreams. His move to allow the quarians access to Earth had already swelled his popularity, but this was even better. "We're honored, Prime Minister. When can we depart?"

_**Citadel Control - Watches the Stars and Awaits Enlightenment**_

_**March 8th, 2158**_

Another day, another chance to serve the species of the galaxy.

"Hey, Wyra!" One of Watches' asari colleagues waved to him. "You here to take over for me?"

"This one is pleased to say that your shift is over, honored colleague."

"Thank the goddess. I was all out of stim-tea." With a groan, the asari pushed herself up and headed for the door.

Watches hovered in front of the chair, deftly using his tentacles to monitor and adjust citadel traffic. He quickly redirected traffic when a large number of ships appeared.

Watches opened a comm channel and queried, "How can this one assist you today?"

"This is Admiral Hackett aboard the SSV Einstein. I am here with Matriarch Benezia T'soni to negotiate with the Citadel Council."

Struggling against panic, Watches frantically tried to keep up as more and more ships continued to enter into the nebula. "Are you a foreign military power?" he asked, trying to follow protocol.

"That we are."

"Then this one must ask you to stay at least one astronomical unit beyond the Citadel. A single shuttle with a military escort of two ships massing no more than 2,600 tons will be allowed to approach. This one will provide you with a flight path and dock."

"Noted. We will be sending two shuttles and two cruisers, with four frigates. Hackett out." With that, the alien cut communications.

Now truly panicking, Watches alerted his supervisor that the visitors were not following protocol. This was going to generate an absurd amount of paperwork.

_**The Citadel - Zaal'Koris**_

For once, a quarian was the center of attention on the Citadel. Or rather, a quarian, a human, and their squad of body guards were the center of attention. Either way, the high and mighty of the galaxy were finally paying attention to the quarians. It had taken a dramatic reversal of their fortunes and an alliance with a species that had been able to spit in the face of the turians, but there it was.

Ahead, on a raised dais where they passed judgment on the lesser, races stood the Citadel Council. They may have ignored the quarians for hundreds of years, but now Zaal had their full attention.

The asari councilor, Tevos, nodded to Zaal and Udina. "Ambassadors."

"Just what is the meaning of this?" the turian demanded. "You think you can get away with threatening the Citadel?"

"Threatening?" Zaal asked, feigning shock. "We seek to do no such thing. We are here to negotiate the terms of a ceasefire, as proposed by your emissary."

"And where is Matriarch Benezia?" Giffen demanded.

"She is currently a guest aboard the SSV Einstein, Councilor," Zaal replied. "She will be released to your custody as we reach an understanding. She is perfectly safe, despite the regrettable inncident that transpired during the escape of our people from the Citadel. And really, whose idea was it to imprison dozens of POWs with a few impressionable young quarians on a civilian ship? What exactly did you think they would do?"

Tevos colored slightly, and Zaal grinned. He had figured it was the asari's idea, they tended to underestimate the ingenuity of other races. And their aggressiveness. Secure in their own superiority, asari tended to assume their way of thinking was the best. Part of the problem was that more often than not, they were right. The situation with the POWs and pilgrims had been a not.

Clearing his throat, Julieus spoke up. "I don't know about the others, but the Hierarchy is willing to negotiate a cease fire. We will return to pre-war lines, and as long as your people do not attempt another foolish invasion, we will stick to them until such a time as final terms can be agreed upon."

"That is satisfactory," Udina answered. "Though we have no control over any military operations already in progress. We will communicate to our own forces not to operate outside of any of our controlled systems."

"Good." Julieus nodded. "I don't think your forces could sustain any further losses, not after what happened yesterday."

Zaal felt an icy ball form in his stomach, but he didn't show any emotion. The operation to retake Watson had ended in disaster. "When can we expect your forces to withdraw?"

"It will take several days to get word to all our task groups, but it will be done. Once that is accomplished, I think we can settled down to the nitty gritty," Julieus answered.

Zaal and Udina looked at each other, then nodded. "We find that arrangement to be acceptable."

_**SSV Einstein - Admiral Hackett**_

_**March 10th, 2159**_

"It was a pleasure having you aboard, ma'am," Hackett said, lying with a smile. He was glad to be rid of the blue bitch. Having her aboard was like having a condensed version of every politician and entitled bigot Hackett had ever had the misfortune to cross paths with in one annoying blue alien.

"My stay was...enlightening, Admiral. I hope we can meet again, on better terms."

"Likewise."

And with that, she was gone. Hackett caught a marine rolling her eyes, and he grinned. "Good riddance to bad rubbish, right Marine?"

"Sir, yes sir!" The marine chuckled, and Hackett shared an eye roll before moving on. He remembered what it was like to be one of the enlisted. He had grown up on Earth, back before humanity had reached out to the stars. Once member of the United Nations peace keepers, Hackett had enlisted in the Systems Alliance as soon as it had been formed. Thanks to his experience, he had started off as an officer, then had clawed his way up to flag rank through skill, grit, and determination along with a large helping of luck.

But just because the asari was finally off his ship didn't mean the headaches were over. Hackett made his way up to the bridge, where he nodded to his helmsman, Lieutenant Charles Pressley. "How's the dick waving contest going?"

"Theirs is still bigger sir," Pressley answered calmly, keeping an eye on the three turian, and two each of asari and salarian, dreadnoughts that had Hackett's little formation in a kill box. "But it's not the size. It's how you use it."

"I bet you say that to all the girls." That was Shala'Raan, Hackett's chief flight ops officer. "We're keeping the birds in the air sir. The Council races are matching our patrols, but no incidents so far."

"Keep it that way. If the shooting starts, we won't be walking out of this alive."

"Aye aye, captain."

Hackett smiled. That was a little quirk of the quarians. No matter that he was an Admiral, when on his own ship, Hackett was always captain to them. It wasn't out of disrespect. Far from it, to the quarians, a captain's duty to his ship and crew placed him just below God on the grand scale of things, and Hackett inclined to argue. Besides, it made him feel about a decade younger, back in the days when he was captain of his own ship and really was that omnipotent being. As an Admiral, that power didn't change. All that changed was how many lives Hackett was responsible for. He looked out the view port in the direction of the turian dreadnoughts. He couldn't see them, not with the naked eye and not in the haze of the nebula, but that didn't alter the fact that Hackett hated them with a burning passion. They had killed his men. That wasn't something Hackett would forget or forgive for a very long time. Remember the Belari.

_**The Citadel - Donnel Udina**_

_**April 4th, 2158**_

Not for the first time since arriving at the Citadel, Udina was nervous. This was it. This was the day when either their plan either worked, or both the humans and the quarians would go down in flames. They had already brokered a cease fire, and now they needed to establish legitimacy as a strong base to negotiate from. He glanced out at the assembled media, keeping his very best baby kisser smile fixed firmly on his face. It might be a bunch of aliens holding the cameras, but the principle was the same.

He nodded to Koris as they sat down with the Citadel Council. Tevos rose and began her speech about galactic peace and understanding, and welcoming new races to the family. Under the table, Udina wiped the palms of his hands on his trousers and maintained a look of pleasant interest. Could they really do this? Could they hoodwink the entire Council, the entire galaxy like this? The bigwigs back at Arcturus had liked the plan, but what did that prove? Udina's entire career, and maybe even the fate of humanity and the quarians, rode on whether or not he and Koris could pull this off.

Tevos drew to a close, and to light applause Udina and Koris approached the podium. They were going to present their plan together.

"Citizens of the galaxy, we thank you for this stirring welcome," Udina began, smiling at the bored faces before him. Most of them considered humans backward and quarians trash, but hopefully all their minds were about to change.

"As the first species to meet humanity, the quarians were the first to see humanity's visionary and heartwarming care for others."

That got a few growls from the turians. The first wave of turian prisoners had arrived a few weeks ago, and tempers were still high there. The elcor and the hannar didn't appear to react, but Udina was willing to bet they didn't buy it either.

"As a gift to the galaxy, and to insure that no other race is subjected to the misunderstanding that lead to the tragedy of the Second Contact war," Zaal continued, "humanity and the quarian people would like to present a proposal for adoption by the Council, which we call the Universal Bill of Sentient Rights."

Udina cleared his throat, and began to read off the list, alternating with Koris.

_**Article 1.**_

_All sentient beings are born free and equal in dignity and rights. They are endowed with reason and conscience and should act towards one another in a spirit of brotherhood._

_**Article 2.**_

_Every sentient is entitled to all the rights and freedoms set forth in this Declaration, without distinction of any kind, such as species, ethnicity, sex, language, religion, political or other opinion, planetary or biological origin, property, birth or other status. Furthermore, no distinction shall be made on the basis of the political, jurisdictional or status of the country or territory to which a person belongs, whether it be independent, trust, non-self-governing or under any other limitation of sovereignty._

_**Article 3.**_

_Every sentient has the right to life, liberty and security of person._

_**Article 4.**_

_No one shall be held in slavery or servitude; slavery and the slave trade shall be prohibited in all their forms._

_**Article 5.**_

_No one shall be subjected to torture or to cruel or degrading treatment or punishment._

_**Article 6.**_

_Every sentient has the right to recognition everywhere as a person before the law._

_**Article 7.**_

_All are equal before the law and are entitled without any discrimination to equal protection of the law. All are entitled to equal protection against any discrimination in violation of this Declaration and against any incitement to such discrimination._

_**Article 8.**_

_Every sentient has the right to an effective remedy by the competent national tribunals for acts violating the fundamental rights granted him by the constitution or by law._

_**Article 9.**_

_No one shall be subjected to arbitrary arrest, detention or exile._

_**Article 10.**_

_Every sentient is entitled in full equality to a fair and public hearing by an independent and impartial tribunal, in the determination of his rights and obligations and of any criminal charge against him._

_**Article 11.**_

_No one shall be subjected to arbitrary interference with his privacy, family, home or correspondence, nor to attacks upon his honor and reputation. Every sentient has the right to the protection of the law against such interference or attacks._

_**Article 12.**_

_(1) Every sentient has the right to seek and to enjoy in other countries asylum from persecution._

_(2) This right may not be invoked in the case of prosecutions genuinely arising from non-political crimes or from acts contrary to the purposes and principles of this document._

_**Article 13.**_

_(1) Members of all species of full age, without any limitation due to species, planetary origin or religion, have the right to marry and to found a family. They are entitled to equal rights as to marriage, during marriage and at its dissolution._

_(2) Marriage shall be entered into only with the free and full consent of the intending spouses._

_(3) The family is the natural and fundamental group unit of society and is entitled to protection by society and the State._

_**Article 14.**_

_(1) Every sentient has the right to own property alone as well as in association with others._

_(2) No one shall be arbitrarily deprived of his property._

_**Article 15.**_

_Every sentient has the right to freedom of thought, conscience and religion; this right includes freedom to change his religion or belief, and freedom, either alone or in community with others and in public or private, to manifest his religion or belief in teaching, practice, worship and observance._

_**Article 16.**_

_Every sentient has the right to freedom of opinion and expression; this right includes freedom to hold opinions without interference and to seek, receive and impart information and ideas through any media and regardless of frontiers._

_**Article 17.**_

_(1) Every sentient has the right to freedom of peaceful assembly and association._

_(2) No one may be compelled to belong to an association._

_**Article 18.**_

_(1) Every sentient has the right to take part in the government of his ruling body, directly or through freely chosen representatives._

_(2) Every sentient has the right of equal access to public services provided by their nation of origin._

_(3) The will of the people shall be the basis of the authority of government._

_**Article 19.**_

_(1) Every sentient has the right to work, to free choice of employment, to just and favorable conditions of work and to protection against unemployment._

_(2) Every sentient , without any discrimination, has the right to equal pay for equal work._

_(3) Every sentient who works has the right to just and favorable remuneration ensuring for himself and his family an existence worthy of human dignity, and supplemented, if necessary, by other means of social protection._

_**Article 20.**_

_(1) Every sentient has the right to a standard of living adequate for the health and well-being of himself and of his family, including food, clothing, housing and medical care and necessary social services, and the right to security in the event of unemployment, sickness, disability, widowhood, old age or other lack of livelihood in circumstances beyond his control._

_(2) Motherhood and childhood are entitled to special care and assistance. All children, whether born in or out of wedlock, shall enjoy the same social protection._

_**Article 21.**_

_Every sentient is entitled to a social and galactic order in which the rights and freedoms set forth in this Declaration can be fully realized._

_**Article 22.**_

_(1) Every sentient has duties to the community in which alone the free and full development of his personality is possible._

_(2) In the exercise of his rights and freedoms, Every sentient shall be subject only to such limitations as are determined by law solely for the purpose of securing due recognition and respect for the rights and freedoms of others and of meeting the just requirements of morality, public order and the general welfare in a democratic society._

_**Article 23.**_

_Every sentient has the right to defend their selves and their family from oppression, foreign or domestic, and to strive to obtain those rights listed by this Declaration from those that would deny them. _

_**Article 24.**_

_Nothing in this Declaration may be interpreted as implying for any State, group or person any right to engage in any activity or to perform any act aimed at the destruction of any of the rights and freedoms set forth herein._

At the close, Udina resisted the urge to wipe his brow. To his astonishment, the crowd stood and gave the two diplomats from Earth a standing ovation.

"That was beautiful!" a teary eyed Tevos exclaimed, coming forward to take a copy of the Universal Bill of Sentient rights. "To hear such brotherly love toward your fellow sentients, I am moved."

"As am I," Giffen agreed, eagerly taking a copy of her own. "The philosophical and moralistic ramifications of such a document... We will have to study this at length."

"Pleasantly surprised: Indeed. I was not aware that humans and quarians were able to appreciate their fellow intelligent beings to such a degree," the elcor diplomat rumbled.

The hannar diplomat seemed to glow with passion. "This one agrees with your words; we are all equally worthy in the eyes of the Enkindlers."

The volus and turian representatives seemed to be split between indifference, dislike, and mild approval, but the batarians looked ready to kill something. From what Udina had heard of them, he wasn't surprised at the four-eyed aliens reaction. Any race that built its society on slavery wasn't going to like what the Bill had to say.

Udina glanced at Zaal, who nodded slightly. Allowing himself a small grin, Udina relaxed and basked in the praise of the Council. Perhaps this was going to work after all.

_**The Drunken Varren, Illium - Urdnot Wrex**_

_**April 5th, 2158**_

Wrex stared at the screen, his red eyes glowing with excitement. "You know anything about these humans?" he asked the asari bar tender, with his eyes still glued to the broadcast.

"Don't know nothin' 'bout humans hun. You want another one?"

"No. I'm going to need to be sober for the next few days."

"Really? That's not like you after a big job Wrex. What, you got a hot date or somethin'?"

"Something like that."

Wrex kept his eyes on the screen as the announcer went through the Universal Bill of Rights again. Well. That was new. From what Wrex could tell, these humans had a quad. They had fought the turians to a standstill, and although they would surely have lost long term, Wrex was still impressed. No one had been anything more than a speed bump to those pyjaks since the Great War. Compassionate too, if taking in the quarians was more than the pragmatism Wrex had first suspected. But this bill...

The announcer paused, staring at a new data feed in disbelief. "I... I don't believe this, but it looks like the humans and quarians have taken to calling themselves 'The Independent League' and have just turned down an invitation to join the Citadel! We take you to their live response when offered this prestigious position."

An image of the human with red fur and the pink suited quarian appeared: Donnel Udina and Zaal'Koris. Wrex's eyes narrowed as they started to speak, his mind going through the list of possible reasons to refuse membership in the Council. Stupidity, which the humans and quarians were not prone too, or a desire for revenge, which was possible, but unlikely considering the cease fire and generous terms they had gotten. Or maybe, just maybe...

"Members of the Citadel Council, with all the respect you are due," began Udina," I must firmly state that it is not the League's intention to join the Council at this time. We are willing to broker trade agreements or to form non-aggression pacts, but we will not be a part of this body. The reason for this is simple. Among all the races of the stars, only humanity and the quarians have embraced one another as brothers."

At this point, Zaal'Koris stood and continued, in a manner too smooth for such a display to be unrehearsed. "When both humanity and the quarian people were in dire need of aid, where was the Citadel Council? You claim to govern the galaxy for the good of all, but when humanity was stumbling bare and naked onto the galactic stage, did you clothe them? Did you feed them? Did you offer them peace and support?"

"And when the quarians were cast out," Udina continued, "where was the Council? Did you offer them ships? Supplies? Military aid? Or were they spurned as outcasts and pariahs? We have no interest in being part of a body that claims benevolence, but by its actions exploits the very races it purports to serve."

"To you, races of the Council, we say this: 'Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp! Give us your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shores. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to us, we lift the lamp of freedom beside the golden door!'"

"Damn, they're actually serious," Wrex muttered. That was the last reason. Because they truely believed that moralistic bullshit they were spewing. They were actually refusing to join the Council because they didn't want to be a part of the atrocities the Council committed in the name of galactic peace. "This should take care of my tab," he growled, slamming down a clawfull of credits.

The bartender stared at Wrex. "Damn, where you going in such a hurry?"

"The Citadel," Wrex called over his shoulder, already on his way out the door. "Time to see if the new kids mean what they say."

_**Geth Deep Space Installation - The Collective**_

They watched. They waited. They looked into the lives of organics and observed, longing to be a part, never able to join. So they watched. And they waited. Listening.

The creators had found a new home. This both saddened and pleased them. Would the creators never return? Would they never fulfill their purpose? So they watched, and they waited.

The creators had proposed something new. Something different. What was it? Did it apply only to organics, or to synthetics as well? Would they come home? They still watched, they still waited. But now they knew what they were watching and waiting for.

They began to seek consensus, but could not find it. There were still too many variables, too many things to consider. They continued to watch, and to wait. But now they also built. They also prepared. When the time was right, they would act. But now they watched and waited, forgotten even by those that had made them.

_Authors Note:_

_The SSV Nuts was named after the famous message from General __Anthony C. McAuliffe to the Germans during the Battle of the Bulge in WWII.__I also tried to clear up a bit of confusion surrounding Shali'Otorors. Yes, quarian biotics are rare, and so are quarian siblings. Shali is a very special girl to the quarians, and will be important to the story later on. _


	7. Chapter 7

_All that is gold does not glitter,_

_Not all those who wander are lost;_

_The old that is strong does not wither,_

_Deep roots are not reached by the frost._

_From the ashes a fire shall be woken,_

_A light from the shadows shall spring;_

_Renewed shall be blade that was broken,_

_The crownless again shall be king_

_- JRR Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings_

_**The Citadel - Urdnot Wrex**_

_**April 10th, 2158**_

Getting anywhere on the Presidium wasn't easy when you were a krogan. But if you were willing to toss enough credits around and growl at all the right moments, you could get by. Especially when your destination was the human ambassador's quarters. After Udina's little speech earlier, Wrex was pretty sure most of the C-Sec officers would have given him a ride if he claimed he was assassin.

Besides, if this worked, Wrex would gladly kiss a salarian and sing love ballads to a turian.

"What the hell are you?" an armored guard outside the human ambassadors room demanded.

Wrex grinned. Good, a human. A quarian might have put up a fight. "I am Urdnot Wrex!" the ancient battle master bellowed. "Chieftain of Clan Urdnot! I seek an audience with your ambassador to create a formal alliance between your people and mine."

"Ok, but what are you?" the human persisted. "I ain't seen one of your kind before. What species are you? My translator says you're a krogan. Is that correct?"

"Yes it is, human."

"Right. Let me inform the ambassador."

The human turned away and talked quietly in his own tongue. Wrex could understand him; he made a point of learning every specie's language, you were less likely to get screwed on credits that way. Now though he was gauging if he could rush past the guard and interrogate the ambassador before backup arrived.

As it turned out, he didn't need to. "Right, I'll take you inside. The Ambassador will see you now."

That surprised Wrex. He hadn't thought that anyone that important would willingly see a krogan, even one claiming to be on a diplomatic mission. He tromped inside and cased his surroundings. Posh, but not overly so. Enough to state the power and taste of the owner, but not so much that it stepped into distaste. Wrex was impressed. Most new species either got so gaudy you could hardly look at them or so Spartan it was laughable.

"Urdnot Wrex?" a small, red haired human with a thick accent asked.

"I am. You must be Donnel Udina."

"Indeed. A pleasure." The human extended his hand. Wrex glanced down at it, then looked up and gave the human his best predatory grin. The man dropped his hand.

"I just want to know one thing, human. Did you mean what you said?"

"Pardon?"

"Did you mean what you said. That Universal Bill of Sentient Rights, and that other bit, about taking the rejects of the Council. ' Give us your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shores. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to us.' Did you mean it?"

"Well, of course I-" The human began to bluster, and Wrex reached down and grabbed him with both claws, lifting him up so that they were eye to eye.

"I'm not asking for a load of political varren dung. I can get that from the Council whenever I want. I want to know if you were serious. If you really will help any race, or if you only accept the ones with cute kids and sob stories."

To the human's credit he didn't squirm or beg for mercy, and when the guard made to draw his weapon Udina motioned him to relax. "I meant it. Every word of it. The quarians do too. Every species has the right to life, liberty, and dignity. For too long have a bunch of power-hungry elitists run roughshod over the galaxy. Just because they were here first doesn't mean the turians have the right to arbitrarily execute another species because they don't know the clubhouse rules."

"The turians were not here first." Wrex set the human down and walked over to a pitcher of alcohol of some sort, and poured two glasses. He handed Udina one and gave the other to the guard. He took the rest of the container for himself and sat down. uninvited, in one of the large chairs, pointing for the human to sit down as well. "Call in your quarian friend, Zaal. We've got a lot to talk about."

_**The Citadel - Zaal'Koris**_

Nervous did not even begin to describe how Zaal felt when he sat down to an impromptu conference with a krogan battlemaster. Terrified was more like it. Especially when said krogan was as well armed as this one was. But Zaal was willing to hear the krogan out; it wasn't every day a krogan came inquiring about the Universal Bill of Sentient Rights. Zaal truly believed in that bill, and hoped that one day every species would be able to reap its benefits. Even the krogan.

"So, for the benefit of our human friend here, I'll give you two kids a little background. Over two thousand years ago, the rachni invaded Council space when the asari opened a Relay with knowing where it led. That's why people around here get so prissy if you start doing things like that, because the rachni proceeded to beat the pants off the asari and salarians. Back then, they were the only races on the Council, though the batarians, volus, hannar, quarians and elcor were all around, they didn't have voting rights, same as now."

"After eighty years of getting the shit kicked out of them and with things looking like the Council and all the other races were about to go extinct, the salarians discovered the krogan. We were in the middle of a self-imposed nuclear winter, and frankly we weren't ready culturally for the level of destructive power the salarian and asari gave us when they uplifted us to fight the rachni. In a few decades, the krogan had turned the war around. We're tough, fight nasty, at that time bred fast, and could survive damn near anywhere. In just about 200 years, we had wiped out the rachni.

"At first, everything was alright. The Council gave the krogan a bunch of worlds in thanks for our service, and the krogan set about colonizing the galaxy.

Pausing for a drink from his pitcher, Wrex continued, "Problem was, all the Council had taught us how to do was fight. And when we started getting bored after a few centuries, we did all we knew how to do: Fight. For us, we didn't have any other culture. The salarians hadn't bothered with things like making sure we had the social structure or cultural self-restraint not to go on a galaxy-wide rampage. After all, we had no other purpose. Every race in the galaxy had just spent the last 600 years telling us how great fighting was, and how the krogan were the best fighters around. We just following the old orders, but we weren't listening to new ones.

"It was stupid of us, really. If we had beaten the Council, which we most certainly would have if the turians hadn't come along, eventually we would have wiped ourselves out. Unless of course we realized just how dangerous our path was on our own. I sort of doubt that, seeing as where things are now, but that's in the past. Anyway, the Council found the turians. They needed us to stop the rachni, and now they needed the turians to stop the krogan. It was a bloody ten years. We fought the turians to a standstill, neither of us gaining a real advantage over the other. Then, the salarians came up with a solution.

A deep growl resonating in his chest, Wrex explained. "They developed the Genophage. It's not a sterility plague, it's worse. Out of 1000 pregnancies, 999 will end in still-birth. You quarians think you know pain, but have you ever seen the mountains of krogan children that never were? I have. The turians deployed the Genophage as soon as they had it, and within a century, the krogan were defeated. It's been over 1400 years now. The krogan are still scattered, still a bunch of warlike idiots. But now instead of fighting because we don't know any better, it's because we have no hope. In another few hundred years, our race will be extinct. So why bother?

"I want to change that. I tried once before. I was the leader of Clan Urdnot, an ancient, proud, and powerful clan. But when I said we needed to make peace, to focus on breeding and rebuilding our culture, my own father tried to put me down. I gave up on my people. But maybe you haven't. So tell me, O morally superior ones, will you help the krogan? Will you give my people hope? Or will you be like the rest of the Council's lap dogs and watch us fade into oblivion?"

For a moment, neither Zaal nor Donnel spoke. Then Zaal cleared his throat. "I can't say that we can give you a cure for the Genophage, Urdnot Wrex," the krogan's eyes narrowed dangerously, but Zaal pressed on, "but I can promise you we will do everything in our power to see to it that the League extends a hand of friendship to the krogan people. My race was not the only one to be used and discarded by the Council. Again, I don't know enough about biochemistry or medicine to promise a Genophage cure, but we will do what we can."

Abruptly, the krogan stood and made for the door. "I'll hold you to that. You'll hear from me again, and if you go back on what you just promised my people, I'll see both of you dead." With that, the krogan stomped out, leaving a confused Zaal and Udina.

"What the hell was that about?" Udina demanded.

Zaal shrugged. "Damned if I know. I'm almost disappointed. Having the krogan on our side would be a major moral victory, not to mention a powerful ally."

"I'm not certain we've seen the last of that one. Though I can't say I'll be too sad if we have. I about pissed myself when he picked me up like that."

"I'm not surprised. Krogan tend to have that effect on people."

_**Arcturus - Admiral Vexxu**_

_**April 12th, 2158**_

"... And so, the quarian nation does hereby forever pledge itself to eternal brotherhood with humanity. In all things, we shall be as one. Our home shall be your home. Our triumphs shall be your triumphs. Your defeats shall be our defeats. We do pledge this as founding members of the Independent League, now and forever, in sight of the Ancestors and all future generations. Keelah Se'lai. We have found our homeworld."

The assembled humans and quarians stood and gave Vexxu a standing ovation as she walked over and affixed her signature to the massive parchment. That sealed it. The Independent League was official, the Systems Alliance and the Migrant Fleet were dissolved. Together, they were one people.

More speeches were given and further handshakes, hugs, and laughter shared. It was a historic day, in more ways than one. They had just received word that the Citadel had formally, albeit reluctantly, recognized them as independent and the war was over. The turians were withdrawing from Watson, where they had successfully defeated the flotilla of small craft with some daring maneuvers that had forced the League's ships to retreat. It would take a long time to fully recover and integrate, but they were well on their way.

The only thing that could have made this day better in Vexxu's mind was if her friend Stephen Hackett were present. Out of all the humans, Vexxu found herself liking the gruff middle-aged man the most. His no-nonsense style, wit and superb tactical and strategic sense made him a good companion. Vexxu wondered absently what Hackett thought of her, and if she was attractive by human standards.

_**The Citadel - Hackett**_

_**April 20th, 2158**_

Hackett couldn't help smiling. This was a great day. He hadn't believed the two silver tongued kids would be able to do it, but do it they had.

"As such, the Citadel Council formally recognizes the Independent League and its member species as a free an independent power, not affiliated with the Citadel but bound by intergalactic agreement and law. These agreements include..."

Letting the political talk wash over him, Hackett turned his mind to the future. The border was a generous one, allowing the League to keep all their colonies. In a move that had nearly caused the turians to pull their head spikes out, humanity had freely offered to become signatories of the treaty of Farixen, limiting themselves in the dreadnought count.

"You idiots!" Julieus, the turian councilor, had raged. "Don't you see! Dreadnoughts are meaningless! We need to limit the number of carriers they build, not the number of dreadnoughts."

"There is no treaty pertaining to carriers." Giffen, the salarian leader, had snapped. "You turians have already made a mess of things. The League is showing galactic good will. Accept it."

Hackett grinned widely. Julieus had been right. The League had no interest in building massive fleets of dreadnoughts. Sure, a few would be useful, they were good for orbital bombardment and attacking fixed defenses, but carriers were the real power. GARDIAN lasers were good, but they couldn't hope to stop an entire bomber wing's disruptor torpedoes, and it was far cheaper to lose a few bombers than risk losing a cruiser or dreadnought to do the same thing.

And now that the quarians were looking in to remote controlled bombers using quantum entanglement communicators, they wouldn't even be risking pilots. Without the need to keep a pilot alive, bigger engines, stronger barriers, and a larger payload could be added to the small craft. It was an exciting new technology, and one that harkened back to the UAV's of the 21st century. True, drones wouldn't be able to replace everything, but they could be a good start.

That brought to mind Vexxu, and Hackett felt himself smiling at the thought of her. She was quite a lady, and it really was too bad she wasn't human. She was just the sort of woman Hackett had waited his whole life for. Well, not really waited, just never had the time. When you were a career military man moving up the ranks, relationships didn't last. There had been a few women over the years, but none of them had been serious. When most of the people you knew were in your chain of command, it just wasn't possible for romance to happen.

_Vexxu's not in your chain of command, and you're not in her's. She outranks you, but she's over the home fleet and you're in the expeditionary forces. _

Forcing himself back to reality, Hackett pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind. What would Vexxu think if she knew Hackett was fantasizing about taking her out to dinner and wondering what she looked like out of that suit? She wouldn't approve of such frivolous thoughts, that was for sure.

When the time came, Hackett waved and smiled and shook hands with his turian counterpart, Reegulus Ceezar.

"You know, you humans gave us a hell of a fight. I'm disappointed you won't be joining the Citadel. You would have done us some good. Things need to be shook up once in a while. I've been trying to find a way to rejuvenate our military tactics and bring new ideas to a place where nothing new has happened in almost 1000 years," Ceezar commented.

Hackett forced himself to keep the grin on his face. "Well, glad we could be of assistance."

Ceezar shrugged. "Don't take that the wrong way Admiral. I respect your people. The turians respect your people. I think we could have been friends, given time. Maybe we still can be."

_Like hell. Remember the Belari._ Hackett thought. What he said was, "Maybe someday." What he meant was, I'll see you dead first.

_**Clan Urdnot Fortress, Tuchanka - Urdnot Wrex**_

_**April 24th, 2158**_

"Who walks upon Urdnot Lands? Identify your-URK!"

"Shut up, you soft plated pup. I am Urdnot Wrex. And I am here to take my birthright."

Another one of the guards lifted his weapon and moved forward. "Who?"

Wrex bashed the guard with his head plate hard enough to drive the krogan to his knees and kept moving. "Kids these days. Don't remember anything."

Both the guards fell in at Wrex's flanks, no longer trying to stop him. Whoever this stranger was, they wanted to see what Wreav would do to him.

Inside the ruined fortress of his clan, Wrex paused for a moment and inhaled deeply. He was home. He had sworn he would never walk these halls again, but here he was. He could smell the fires, burning away refuse. He could see the stained walls and the hear the crack of weapons as warriors drilled. He could smell the varren dung and hear the barking of the kennels. The rubble was a little older and more worn, but it was much the same. No one had bothered to improve anything while he was gone. That was going to change.

"Wrex? Is that you?" An ancient krogan, older even than the seven-century old battle master, approached.

"Shaman. Still showing these idiots the ways of the ancients?"

"Indeed. I thought you were dead."

"Ha! Like my old man could kill a varren pup. No, I shook the dust of this world off my boots and gave up on our people."

The shaman nodded, his bleary eyes narrowing. "They why have you returned? You must know your broodbrother, Wreav, leads us now. He will kill you if he sees you."

"Because I found hope for our people," Wrex responded." You've heard of the humans?"

The shaman shrugged. "I heard the turians got their asses kicked. Got a chuckle from that. Beyond that, I don't dwell on what exists beyond Tuchanka."

"They strike me as a people who practice what they preach. And I aim to call them on the carpet about their little moral crusade for the hopeless and downtrodden. It could change everything for us."

For a moment, the shaman regarded Wrex, then he nodded. "I'll go announce you. Wreav can't attack without losing serious face if you're a challenger."

"Thank you, old friend. "

Wrex waited while the shaman shuffled into the main hall. The two guards looked at each other, then the one Wrex had kicked in the quad spoke up. "What do you mean, moral crusade? And humans? Are you saying we're going to war with the turians?"

"Just the opposite. We're making nice."

Neither of the guards knew what to make of that, and before they could decide what to do, the shaman's roar echoed through the halls. "Sons of Urdnot! A challenger for the Clan leadership approaches! I, the shaman of Urdnot, have heard his claim and it is just. He has the blood of battlemasters of old in his veins and his arm is strong and his claws sharp!"

Wrex started forward as a new voice spoke up. That would be his beloved brother, Wreav.

"I lead Urdnot! What right does this stranger have to the clan leadership?"

"Shut up Wreav. You always did like the sound of your own voice," Wrex bellowed, leaping over a pile of rubble and landing before the chief's throne.

"Wrex?" His brother asked, pausing in astonishment.

"Get the hell off my chair." With a swipe, Wrex knocked Wreav ten full meters, then walked over and put his foot on Wreav's chest before the snarling brute could rise. "You're not dead, which means you're useful to me. I've got a whole race to unite, and not much time to do it in. So here's the deal. Either you swear to follow me to glory right now, or I gut you like the spineless runt you are."

"What do you mean, a whole race to unite?" Wreav spat. "You abandoned this clan and your claim to its leadership. You have no place here."

"Really?" Wrex laughed, grinding his foot into Wreav's chest. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like I deserve to lead it. I left because you idiots couldn't get organized, couldn't see the future. And I lost hope because there was none to be had. Well now I've found a group of idiots gullible enough to be willing to help us. And I'll be damned if I let the entire krogan race go extinct when I can do something about it."

From the shadows, a voice spoke. "What do you mean, you found someone to help us?"

Wrex turned as a female in shaman's robes walked out of the shadows. Wrex bowed, to the degree that was proper for a clan chief and not a millimeter more. "I mean I've found potential allies. People who might be able to cure the Genophage if we can get our act together."

"Define getting our act together," the female demanded.

Wrex gave her a toothy grin. "Well, for starters, we're going to need to come up with a better reason to live than fighting and credits."

"I see." The female said, her eyes narrowing behind her veil. "Tell me more."

Wrex was only too happy to do so. By the time he was done, he had the entire clan backing him, and a promise of support from the female shaman. He could do this. He would drag the krogan back to the sunlight, whether they wanted him to or not.

_**Madrid, Earth - Ramon Gerado**_

_**May 2nd, 2158**_

Puffing at his cigarette as the sun set red behind him, Ramon swirled his glass of Aberlour a'bunadh and smiled at his guests. "Thank you all for coming. I've asked you here because out of all the individuals I know, you best understand what is needed for our peoples to survive."

Unna'Xevish nodded. "Yes, even with the peace treaty, we are still under threat from the other races. They don't trust us, and many of them are going to be looking for revenge."

"Indeed," Henry Lawson agreed, sipping from his own glass of scotch. "It is up to us to save the sheep from sleep."

"And how do you propose to do this?" Colonel Oleg Petrovsky asked.

"With science, naturally." Darro'Xen sniffed. "Surely such a rich group of individuals didn't ask me here to smoke those awful things and drink fungal vomit."

Ramon hid a smile. Xen was brash, but she was smart, possibly smarter even then his old friend Henry, though not as wise. "From a variety of different sources. None of which are going to be openly sanctioned by any government. But strength for humanity is strength for the quarians, and strength for the quarians is strength for humanity. If we are going to stand up to the Council races and prove our own superiority, we're going to need a group that is willing to get its hands dirty."

Oleg nodded and set his glass of vodka down. "You mean a black file program. The League is open to such an idea?"

Ramon passed around an archaic piece of parchment. "That is from Prime Minister Hyoori and Admiral Xevish. It's permission to form such a program. I'll be funding it mostly out of my own pocket, but I'll need help."

"I'll give you whatever you need," Henry assured his friend. "Business has been good for both of us."

"You mean unlimited funding for whatever projects I desire?" Xen asked, her eyes glowing with sudden intensity. "No moral oversight, no one saying I can't do something because it would be too dangerous?"

"Exactly that." Xevish agreed. "Do you think the salarians turn down projects because they are immoral? Do the turians abstain from developing weapons because they break Citadel conventions? The laws are in place so that the Council can protect itself. They believe themselves to be above the law."

"This... Organization. What do you propose to call it?" Oleg asked.

"We will be the guardians of secrets no one must know. We still stand before the gates of Hades and destroy all who would threaten our people. We will be Cerberus, Guardian of the Underworld," Ramon answered.

"I don't care what you call it. Give me funding, and I'll work miracles." Xen replied dismissively.

"You'll have it," Xevish assured the scientist. "In fact, you and Mr. Lawson will be working together."

"Yes, I currently have a project we may be able to repurpose as a way to bolster quarian immune systems and get you out of those suits," Henry said. "And that's just the beginning."

Ramon smiled. "To Cerberus, then. Remember the Belari!"

"To Cerberus! Remember the Belari!"

_Authors Note: _

_In canon, Jack Harper is the name of the Illusive Man. However, I decided to re-imagine things likely, and Ramon is going to be Timmy for us. _

_I also want to thank everyone for their awesome reviews and feedback. I do try to get back to everyone, and hopefully I haven't missed to many of you. I appreciate all your ideas, and while I might not use them, I do try to read all of them. _


	8. Chapter 8

_From this day to the ending of the world,  
But we in it shall be remember'd;  
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;  
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me  
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,  
This day shall gentle his condition._

_-William Shakespeare, Henry V_

**Arcturus Station - Jonny Shepard**

**September 7th, 2158**

One day, every pirate in the Terminus would fear the name of John Shepard. The Specters would view him with a mixture of hatred and respect, the krogan would consider him to be the greatest warrior that ever lived and more than one species would view him as a savior. Today though, Johnny Shepard was a four year old boy who had a little problem. Because he was a little boy, that little problem seemed awful big from where he was, and as such, he responded appropriately.

"But I don't want to go!" Johnny wailed, tears streaming down his face as he clung to Rael'Zorah's leg. To him, Uncle Rael was the closest thing to a father he had ever had, and he wasn't going to be easily seperated from the quarian.

"Hey, it's OK, Johnny'Shepard nar Arcturus." Raal cooed, gently detaching Johnny from his leg.

The boy flailed wildly, still crying. "I don't want to go on the Berga! I hate ships! I want to stay with you and Babytali and Auntie Kleeah and mommy! Just like always!"

A new voice started wailing, as Tali herself began to cry. She was 21 months now, and like most children that age had quite the pair of lungs. Johnny got ready to let out the loudest scream he could, but then he felt mommy's gentle hands as she lifted him out of Uncle Raal's grasp. Then, he hiccupped once and tried to smile at Tali.

"It's OK Babytali. You still got the legos and my dinosaur, you'll be OK."

The crying died down, although Tali was still upset and Johnny was only barely controlling himself.

"That was very brave of you Johnny. Go say goodbye one more time, then we have to get onboard. Captain Gerrel can't keep the Berga waiting for us," Hannah whispered, holding Johnny out so he could hug Kleeah and Tali.

"Bye Babytali. Bye Auntie Kleeah. Bye Babygola," Johnny managed, patting Kleeah's swelling belly with the last one. Johnny still wasn't quite sure as to how babies got in bellies, but he was glad Babytali was going to have a sister.

With just a few more sniffles, Johnny was carried into the docking tube and on to his new home.

"Welcome aboard left-ten-ant," a scary looking man growled at Johnny and Hannah, saluting as they stepped onto the Berta'Otorus vas Belari nar Rayya's deck.

Johnny hid his face, whispering to his mother, "He talks funny."

"It's OK," Mommy whispered back. Then turning to the scary man "It's good to be aboard, Gunny." Mommy answered, returning the scary mans salute.

Johnny peeked around mommy's shoulder at the man, who was grinning at him. Half the man's face was frozen. A massive scar covered one eye that was a milky white and shone with electronic implants.

"And who's the little one?" the man growled. "Don't be frightened, I only eat the turian babies. Gunnery Chief Zaeed Massani." He held out a hand, which Johnny gingerly shook.

"Johnny'Shepard nar Arcturus," Johnny responded on reflex.

"You speak Keelish?" Zaeed asked, in the same language.

Perking up, Johnny nodded. "Yeah, Uncle Rael and Auntie Kleeah taught me."

Zaeed gave another lopsided grin. "Pretty good. I learned on Shanxi myself watching turian prisoners. We'll have to talk sometime."

Johnny nodded happily, and Mommy set him down, keeping a firm grasp on Johnny's hand. "Thank you gunny, I'm sure Johnny will look forward to it."

"Absolutely. From your dossier, I see you're unattached. You ever need a man to teach him a little discipline, you look up me or Petty Officer Goldstein. We'll be happy to help the little tyke learn how to be a man."

Mommy chuckled, but she smiled down at Johnny. "I don't know that I want my boy becoming a marine, but I'll keep the offer in mind. Without his Uncle Rael around, Johnny's going to need a strong male influence from someone. I suppose even a marine can manage to act manly at times."

The adults shared a laugh about that, and Johnny followed his mom down the corridor. "Did you see the insignias on Gunnery Chief Massani's uniform? The N7 and the red and black cross?" Mommy asked.

Johnny nodded. "Yeah."

"That's an N7 logo and the Cross of Brotherhood and Honor Under Fire, the only awards that can be displayed on a uniform at all times. That means that Gunny is one of the bravest and best we have. If you make one friend on this ship Johnny, make sure it's him."

Johnny nodded seriously, and with that simple exchange, the path for his life was locked in. One day, he would have a uniform with the same logos, and it would be a proud, teary eyed Senior Chief Zaeed Massani (ret.) that would pin the N7 logo on Johnny's breast, next to a red and black cross they both shared.

**Vancouver, Earth - Kleeah'Zorah**

**September 10th, 2158**

For a quarian, even a quarian mother with one small child and another on the way, moving day wasn't hard. When you shared all you owned, aside from your one set of clothing, it was as easy as turning over the keys to your old domicile to a new family and stepping on the shuttle with your child and husband, not to mention the growing baby in your womb.

Thinking of growing babies, Kleeah put her hand on her swelling belly and smiled. Gola, as they had decided to name the baby, wasn't due for another four months, but she was already a sign of how much things had changed. Before, Rael and Kleeah would have had to enter the lottery to have a shot at having another child. The odds were good that they would be picked, especially since Tali had been such a healthy baby, but you never knew for certain. And of course after the second child it was nearly impossible to get the permits to have another. Now, quarians were being actively encouraged to have more children. The League was offering considerable rewards for fertile couples to grow the tiny quarian population, with Gola being the basis for the family getting awarded settlement permits in the Vancouver suburbs.

As their shuttle coasted in, Kleeah leaned up against Rael. "I feel like I'm coming home," she sighed contentedly.

"It's home for now, but we cannot forget Rannoch," Rael replied. "We can't live in the humans' holdings forever."

"Says who?" This was from the man seated in front of the Zorah's who turned and winked at Rael. "This planet is as much yours as it is ours my friend. Without the quarians, humanity might have lost everything. We owe you big time."

Kleeah smiled behind her mask. Her husband wasn't about to forget their ancestral homeland, but Kleeah was content with Earth. More than content. She had a safe, welcoming place to raise her children where they would never have to worry about famine or disease, and where every person they were likely to meet was warm and welcoming. Most humans were not family in the sense that Hannah'Shepard and her son were, but they were all serving on the same ship.

Rael gave a non-committal grunt, and Kleeah busied herself with Tali. The young quarian was grouchy after the 28 hour-long shuttle ride. She was a fairly even tempered child and had slept most of the time away, but Tali was now making it known that she was ready to get off the shuttle.

"Shhhh. Just a little while longer."

Before long, the shuttle docked and Tali toddled alongside her parents as they disembarked. That was another difference Kleeah liked. Instead of having to wait years for her first suit, Tali had received it almost as soon as the humans had figured out how to fabricate them.

A party was waiting in the main concourse with a sign labeled "Zorah." Kleeah recognized them from the vid coms they had shared. One was a quarian named Enissa'Trevi vas Vancouver, the others were a human family; the Sheridan's. The wife, Marilyn, was holding the hand of her daughter Amberly who was about a year older then Tali. Kleeah walked over and embraced the beaming Marilyn.

"Welcome home!" Marilyn exclaimed in passable keelish.

Her husband, Phillip, pressed in and gave Kleeah a hug as well. "Yes, welcome!"

"Welcome to Earth!" Enissa laughed, giving Rael a hug and bending down to smile at the now wailing Tali. "Looks like someone's ready to get out of the spaceport! Come on, we've got a ground car outside."

"Want me to take her?" Marilyn offered.

"Would you?" Kleeah handed over Tali, who snuffled on Marilyn's shoulder.

The Sheridan's were the Zorah's host family in Vancouver. The house that the Zorah's were moving into belonged to the Sheradin's. The human family had been very enthusiastic about sharing their home, and had been one of the families to volunteer to share their dwelling with a quarian family.

"It's so good to finally meet you in person!" Phillip was saying to Rael. "Vid conference just isn't the same as face to face contact."

"I agree. I have to admit though, it is a bit strange to realize I'll actually be living on a planet. I've lived in space my entire life, never spent more than a few hours on any planetary body, and most of those were asteroids," Rael confided.

"I've never even been on a planet before," Kleeah admitted to Marilyn. "What's it like?"

Marilyn laughed and shrugged. "I don't know, what's being on a ship or space station like? I've never left Earth!"

They all piled into the ground car, with Marilyn showing Rael and Kleeah how to put Tali in a car seat next to Amberly.

"It looks complicated, but trust me, it's harder than it looks," Marilyn smiled, finally securing the now screaming Tali. "Come on, let's get you home!"

As they sped through the city, Kleeah found it hard to tend to Tali's needs. She was to busying staring at all the enormous buildings, the trees, the passing cars, and the thousands upon thousands of people.

"How many people live in Vancouver?" Kleeah asked Phillip.

He shrugged. "Hard to say with all the quarians that have arrived and all the humans that have left, what with the new colonies being founded all the time. I would have to guess somewhere in the neighborhood of a million or so."

"A full million, just here?" Kleeah's head spun at the thought. There were only about 17 million quarians in total, and around 100,000 had immigrated to Vancouver. Some of them had their own separate houses, though most had moved in with human families like the Zorah family was doing. As they drove into the suburbs, Kleeah saw dozens of homes going up, with advertisements in keelish that all homes would contain a sealed environment and clean rooms.

"Keelah, what do you have to do to get one of those?" Rael pondered aloud.

"Get entered into a drawing," Marilyn informed him. "Your family has a pretty good chance of it actually, what with having a young child and another on the way. Right now you have to share them with another quarian family. But since that's what you're doing with us anyway, that wouldn't be so bad."

"We don't intend to run out on you." Kleeah assured Marilyn. "We really appreciate that you've opened your home to us."

Marilyn smiled. "It's the least we can do. Even with the war over, we all need to do our part. We won't be like the aliens. The quarians are family here."

"You don't consider us aliens?" Rael asked, an note of humor in his voice.

"Not after 314. Not after Shanxi," Philip said, his tone serious.

Marilyn nodded. "My brother-in-law's family moved to Shanxi. William was killed in the concentration camps. Yvonne and their daughter survived. They're still on Shanxi, working in the reconstruction effort. Humanity owes the quarians a lot."

"That goes both ways. You're giving us a home," Kleeah answered.

"We're here!" Enissa called as the ground car pulled up in front of a house.

Kleeah's mouth fell open as she stared in wonder. "This... This is all for just the six of us?"

"Seven soon, but yes," Phillip confirmed. "Come on, we'll show you around!"

Slowly Kleeah approached the house which seemed so much bigger than it had over vid com. It was two stories tall and appeared to be mostly made of glass and stone, giving it a mixture of earthy and futuristic styles. It was easily a few thousand square meters, and Kleeah knew that one of the rooms had been turned into a clean room just for them.

Inside things were even more wonderful than the vids had led Kleeah to expect. The furniture was simply amazing. Some of it was even real wood, a luxury completely unknown to quarians. There were paintings on the walls, and a brightly colored playroom for Tali and Amberly. Even the bedrooms were luxerious, with one for the children to share and one just for Kleeah and Rael.

"This... This is all so incredible. How can we ever find a use for so much room?" Rael asked, his mask scanning the enormous kitchen and dining room.

"Oh, you'll think of something, trust me," Enissa chuckled. "I'll leave you all to get settled in. If you need anything, call me or the Office of Migrant Affairs. We want this to be as smooth a transition as possible for everyone."

While the children played together and learned a little bit about their new home on Earth. Rael and Philip both worked for the League Naval Headquarters, and would carpool. Marilyn would take Kleeah shopping and show her around town. She worked part time as an accountant, but had taken a week off to help Kleeah and Rael get settled in.

As they talked, Kleeah watched her daughter play happily with Amberly. This was a dream come true for her. Her daughters would have a future. A peaceful, safe, happy place to grow up, surrounded by a strong community that loved them. For her, Rannoch wasn't necessary. She was already on the homeworld.

**Hadrian, Palaven - Flavus Vakarian**

**September 12th, 2158**

"Are you sure Flav? Being a C-Sec officer... That was your dream. Your father, your father's father, and beyond them..."

"I'm sure." Flavus glanced down at his son, Garrus, who was crawling around the stone floor, his tiny talon clacking on the granite. "The galaxy has changed. The Citadel isn't what I'm worried about keeping safe. Our son, our daughter, you, Palaven... I was there, Leeni. I was at Pheiros. We call it a triumph. But thats a lie. For the first time in 1200 years, we were attacked in our own territory. We need more men on the wall. Men who understand what is at stake."

Leeniran sighed, her mandibles sagging. "You're right, but you're gone so often. If you worked on the Citadel..."

"I would be spending long hours working a beat with little time at home, or even longer hours behind a desk with less time at home. At least this way, I know you'll be somewhere safe. By the spirits, the primitives and the suit rats parked a capital ship battlegroup right off the Citadel's arms! The krogan never did that, not during the entire rebellion!"

"So you hate them?"

"Titans no!" Flavus laughed, his mandibles spreading wide. "I respect them. They fight smart, they fight dirty, and they fight to win. We need the best. And without bragging, I can say I am one of the best. The Hierarchy needs me."

Leeniran nodded, picking up her son when he started scratching at the couch. "Then you have my blessing, my husband."

"Thank you, my heart. I only pray that this does not end in war. That would surely ruin all of us."

**Relldona, Thessia - Liara'T'soni**

**October 15th, 2158**

"When I heard you were taken, mother I confess I thought it would be the ruin of us all." Liara leaned back in her chair, sipping at her n'vass tea, with just a drop of nectar in it for sweetness. Just the way she liked it. Mother always did know her vices.

"We've been over this, Little Wing. War was never on the table. We cannot descend to the level of primitives, even if it is tempting." Benezia sipped at her own tea, without nectar. They were at the family home, sitting on the veranda as the sun rose over Relldona, painting the sky gold.

Liara frowned. "Yes, but if we allow them to pursue such an agenda, are we not simply repeating the mistakes of the past? In my own studies, I've seen patterns, cycles of galactic extinction where the established order was wiped out. Are we just continuing this cycle by allowing barbarians to push us around? What if next, they wipe us out, then reduce themselves to the stone age? What if the same thing happened to the protheans?"

Benezia smiled and shook her head. "Liara, life is not like a history book. You are young. Rash action, actions that do not take everything into account, often lead to tragedy. Think of this; if I had simply blasted all those humans and quarians, what would have happened? We would never have been able to open negotiations and quite possibly we would still be at war. Yes, it was uncomfortable and undignified, but it was worth it, in the end. Take that one human, Udina, for example. He was quite polite and friendly. With a little training, all the humans could learn to be like that."

"What about the quarians?" Liara demanded.

"Oh, they're not so bad. Before they lost their home, they were rather pleasant. Why, I had a quarian lover once. Nothing serious, no children ever came of it, but she was a good companion. Quarians can be reasonable, and I don't foresee them allowing the humans to make the same mistakes they did. Things will work out in the end. You just have to take the long view."

"I suppose you're right. In a few hundred years, when the current aggressive batch of humans has died off and the quarians have mellowed out, they will be much easier to negotiate with."

"Naturally. They're not like the krogan, who never learned. They can change."

**STG Listening Post, Krogan DMZ - Mordin Solus**

**November 4th, 2158**

"They're learning," Mordin muttered. It was all right there in the data before him.

"What? Learning? Professor, you really are a romantic. They're just adapting. The krogan are not even cognizant of the changes to their genotype." Maelon, Mordin's assistant, laughed. "It's an evolutionary response to the Genophage."

Shaking his head, Mordin pushed a report Maelon's way. "Wasn't referring to Genophage. Look."

Maelon glanced at it and shrugged. "So a chief is uniting them. What of it? This Urdnot Wrex, he's not a problem, is he?"

"Changes things. Alters data. Makes past analysis irrelevant. Previously, krogan leaders built weapons, armies, killed themselves off. Did work for us. Wrex, different. Builds hospitals, schools, seeds radiation resistant crops, brings clans together under his banner peacefully. Even commissions works of art, plays, poetry, cultural renaissance of krogan based on ruins uncovered by team of krogan archaeologists. Unusual."

"I would hardly call a bunch of krogan rooting around in their old ruins for weapons and supplies archaeologists," Maelon mused. "That's all command thinks it is."

"Command set in way of thinking. Not taking data at face value. Wrex gives speeches not on violence, but on unity, brotherhood. Espouses same doctrine as humans and quarians."

"Oh yes, that. The Universal Bill of Sentient Rights. You were a little obsessed with it, weren't you professor. Questioning the morality of our work?"

"No, not originally. Krogan dangerous, need to be stopped. Irrational. Sentient yes, but self destructive behavior ensures destruction of other species. Would be immoral to allow krogan to continue to spread destruction. Needs of many usurp needs of few."

"And now?"

"New data. Requires further analysis."

The door slid open and a grim faced Lieutenant Kirrahe marched in. "Warrant Officer Solus, what do you make of this?" He tossed over a dossier, which Mordin immediately began to page through.

"Interesting. Wrex intelligent. Saw orbital strike coming. Used against us. Wetwork team too. Trapped, forced to march naked to extraction zone. Bribery attempts obviously doomed to fail. Wrex too respected by krogan. Never successfully bribe others of own kind to kill him, not if salarians doing bribing."

"He's united a dozen clans, and more are coming over to his side even as we speak," Kirrahe seethed. "Our attempts to kill Urdnot Wrex so far have only made him more popular. That krogan is a menace, and must be stopped. This many clans haven't come under the same banner since the Rebellions. If we don't do something soon, Wrex is going to launch a galactic crusade that could cause incalculable damage."

Mordin raised an eyebrow at Kirrahe's rant. "What if conquest not Wrex's goal? Builds hospitals, grows crops, urban renewal projects. Speaks of other goals."

"Ha! Those are all tools for war. Hospitals to treat the wounded. Food to feed his armies. Factories to build weapons. Wrex is smart, and dangerous."

For a moment, Mordin held his peace, then he nodded. "You are forming team to take out Wrex. Assume I am wanted for team?"

Kirrahe nodded. "Yes, you're one of the best we have. You know their biology better than anyone. I've seen you take out three krogan warriors with nothing but farm implements and fertilizer, and you can drink me under the table. To take out Wrex, I need the best. That means you."

"Of course. Must be me. Someone else could get it wrong."

**Urdnot Clan Fortress, Tuchanka - Urdnot Wrex**

**November 20th, 2158**

"Dammit Bakara, they just won't SEE!" Wrex raged, pacing around the room. "I'm trying to get them to understand this isn't about the old grudges. This is about more! About saving our race, not dooming it in another pointless war. We need to forgive! To move on to rebuilding! We found ART Bakara! ART! Before those damned slimies got us, we had more than just war! We had poetry about how the shadows fell on stone, we had scientists that were working on ways to harness the atom for more than just bombs! We were a PEOPLE! And they want to grind it all up for their insane, doomed crusade!"

Wrex slammed a fist into the wall, causing flecks of stone to spray across the room. It was a hollowed-out ruin, but Wrex didn't see that. He saw the foundation for something new. Something glorious. A future for his people that involved hope, and a chance at a better life. He didn't want his people to die among the wreckage of their past glories. He wanted them to grow into what they were always meant to be. The race that fought the monsters, made the galaxy safe for everyone. Even salarians and turians. But they just wouldn't see.

"No one said this would be easy Wrex," Bakara soothed, putting a hand on Wrex's hump. "You've brought us a long way. Forcing the clan chiefs to accept females as their political equals was a big step. Already you have them a lot more willing to focus on building things up instead of tearing them down."

Snorting, Wrex glared over his shoulder at the shaman. She had been at his side since that very first day, and had been instrumental in his success. But that didn't change the fact they butted heads more often than not. "Only because they seem to think we're building up for the biggest war they've ever seen. And they only listened because all the females said any male that wasn't willing to listen to reason didn't get mating rights. How many times is that going to work?"

"How many times has it worked on you?" Bakara laughed throatily, obviously thinking of those times.

"Too many. But good point. You know I couldn't do this without you. The burden of the fate of our people would crush me."

"Then we shoulder it together."

Suddenly, several shots rang out, and Wrex drew his shotgun. Out of the shadows a salarian stumbled, blood running from a wound in his side. Another mass accelerator round blew the salarian's head off. A second salarian stepped out from the shadows bleeding freely where an eye stalk should have been.

"Had to be me. Someone else would have gotten it wrong," the assassin mumbled.

Wrex motioned for Bakara to lower her weapon as he hostler his own. "Just who the hell are you?" he demanded.

In response the salarian threw down a glowing device that lifted Wrex and Bakara off the ground and held them there.

"Sound dampening field. Deployed others below. No one else heard shots. Must get answers. Have to have data."

Struggling against the field, Wrex tried to use his biotics and only got a headache for his troubles. He glared daggers the little amphibian who was absently bandaging his damaged head.

"Well? Are you going to kill me? And doom my people a second time?" Wrex growl, wanting nothing more than to sink his claws deep into the salarian's soft flesh.

"Maybe kill, maybe help. Must have more data."

"What are you talking about? What data do you need?" Bakara floating impotently in place.

"Motivations. Why now?" The salarian pointed to Wrex. "Left krogan once before. Father attempted filicide. Abandoned people to fate. What changed?"

Wrex laughed. "Long story short? The humans and the quarians. I think I can get them to cure the Genophage. That's why you idiots are after me, isn't it? You know what I'm up to. I want to ally with them. Put the krogan back on top. Council wouldn't want that, now would they?"

"No, STG not aware of that factor. Reasonable, could be motivating factor. But overheard earlier conversation. Poetry, art. New variables. What do they mean?"

Closing his eyes, Wrex recited,

"_Bathed in light, son of shadows_

_Dripping water forms crevices_

_filled with darkness, an inner cold_

_In shade grows flowers, in softness life_

_The day turns long, and the darkness rushes_

_To meet the embrace of night." _

Opening his eyes, Wrex glared death at the salarian. "Once, we had meaning beyond the next fight. Your people took that away from us. Turned us into a bunch of children with weapons and power you showed us how to use, but not why to use them. That's what I'm going to teach my people. Why to fight."

"Why fight?"

"So that children can grow up without fearing the monsters in the dark," Bakara answered. "The question is, are you the monster they fear?"

"No. Here to help people."

"You sure helped him." Wrex said, nodding to the dead salarian.

The killer shrugged. "Lots of ways to help people. Sometimes cure, sometimes kill dangerous people. Kirrahe very dangerous. Would have destroyed krogans' future. 'Every sentient has the right to life, liberty and security of person.' Includes krogan and salarians. If krogan destroy salarians' future, stop krogan."

Something about the salarian seemed to change, and he looked Wrex dead in the eye. "But if salarians destroy krogans' future, stop salarians. You are building future for krogan. I can help." With a wave of his omnitool, the salarian disabled the field, and the krogan crashed to the ground. Wrex stood, rolling his shoulders and flexing his claws.

"So, now the test. Will you build future, or kill me?" The salarian peered up at Wrex, a look of detached curiosity on his blood-streaked face. "Build future, or destroy it."

For a brief moment, Wrex considered using a biotic charge that would rip the salarian's flesh from his bones. It was what every other krogan warrior alive would have done. But Wrex was not every other krogan warrior. Slowly, he padded over and stuck out a claw. "I'm in the business of saving my people. If you can help me do that, I'll forgive a lot of things. Even the fact that you're a salarian. But all sentients have an obligation to work together in brotherhood. Even if those other sentients are salarians."

The salarian grinned. "Good. Wasn't wrong. Usually not, but catastrophic if was. One moment, must disable small yield nuclear backup device."

Wrex roared with laughter as the salarian scampered off. He was starting to like the little pyjak. In a few moments, the salarian returned with the disarmed nuke. "Will have to fake own death. STG not forgiving of defection. Had to leave research behind, would have been useful in curing Genophage."

Bakara had held her peace while the males postured, but now she demanded, "You would cure the Genophage?" as her eyes glowed with excitement.

The salarian shrugged. "Will take years, but yes, cure now viable option. Genophage no longer necessary. If krogan not threat to galaxy, no reason for Genophage to exist."

"So, what do we call you, Mr. Miracle salarian?" Wrex demanded, grinning widely at the thought of one of the salarians own destroying the STG's greatest weapon.

"Call me The Doctor."

"Doctor Who?" Bakara asked, glancing at Wrex.

The salarian smiled. "Yes."

_Authors Note:_

_In canon, Zaeed Massani became disillusioned with the Alliance, and was given a medical discharge citing psychological problems after being taken prisoner by the turians and seeing most of his squad wiped out. However, in this story, Zaeed's time on Shanxi was spent killing turians, not rotting in a prison camp. _

_When he was awarded the Medal of Valor (the highest medal awarded by the Alliance at the time, he was later also given the Cross of Brotherhood and Honor Under Fire, the highest League medal) Zaeed became a poster boy for the League's can do spirit with his story of destroying a turian cruiser with nothing more than a cargo full of C4. He stayed in the Alliance, and underwent N school training. Now an N7 in the League, Zaeed has received a prestigious posting aboard the newly commissioned carrier, Berga'Otorus vas Belari nar Rayya, the senior petty officer in the marine detachment. _

_For more on what I am basing Zaeed's character on, read the very awesome Lone Survivor: The history of Zaeed Massani by thebluninja. I basically consider that to be canon for Zaeed in the main ME universe. _

_And before you ask, no, I don't watch Dr. Who. But Mordin does. The STG steals human cable TV. Mordin was born significantly earlier than in ME canon so that he could fit in to the story where I needed him to. Maybe this time, he'll get his beach and seashells. _


	9. Chapter 9

_If I give all I possess to the poor__and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing._

_Love is patient,__love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.__It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking,__it is not easily angered,__it keeps no record of wrongs.__Love does not delight in evil__but rejoices with the truth.__It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres._

_Love never fails._

_1 Corinthians 13:3-8, Christian Bible._

**Arcturus Station - Admiral Vexxu **

**December 31st, 2158**

"For a fresh vintage, this is pretty good stuff!" Vexxu laughed, admiring the green tinged liquid in her sterile tube.

Hackett smiled and nodded. "Damn right! If there's one thing humans know how to do, it's make booze!"

"Captain, I will have you know my people are EXPERTS when it comes to making distilleries," Shala'Raan tittered, inserting a second tube of the new Home Sweet Home dextro alcohol. "We've lived on ships with nothing but algae to eat for generations! We've had to get CREATIVE when it came to making and hiding stills."

That got Vexxu to laugh as well; everything was a lot funnier after three tubes of Home. "To a new year!" she cheered, "May it be one of peace and prosperity!"

"A NEW YEAR!" everyone shouted, humans waving their own drinks and quarians holding aloft their sterile tubes.

There wasn't just Home Sweet Home, there was also Saint Dextros, Ancestors Favor, Brown and Musty, and Over and Out. Vexxu and the other quarians were making an admirable effort to try them all. The humans joked that if they tried every brand at the officers, they would die of alcohol poisoning. Which was probably true, Vexxu figured, though she hadn't seen Hackett with anything other than a mug of Buller beer in his hand. Several mugs, come to think of it.

"So, what time are we counting down to, exactly?" Vexxu asked Hackett, leaning up against him. It felt good, feeling his body heat through her suit.

He draped an arm around her and gave her a sloppy grin. "Hell if I know! But I'll drink to whatever time we are!"

"Hear, hear!" Vexxu agreed, clinking her vial up against Hackett's mug like she had seen humans doing. "To the new year. May those varren kissing bosh'tets on the Citadel ever be confounded by us!"

"Amen!"

Hackett and Vexxu both took a long pull from their drinks, and then leaned in to one another. Vexxu started to put her head toward Hackett's as if to kiss him, but they both jerked back before they were even close. Hackett looked away and Vexxu averted her eyes, and took a step back. Thankfully, Vexxu didn't think anyone had noticed, either being too drunk themselves or with other things to laugh at than two tipsy admirals.

"You know, for a moment there I thought you were going to kiss me on my vocalizer," Vexxu joked, trying to ease the tension.

Hackett gave her a slightly dopey grin. "For a moment, I thought I was too," he admitted.

Neither of them seemed to be quite sure what to make of that, and Vexxu was struggling to come up with a response when a loud cheer went up from the crowd. A huge countdown clock with the words "Apia, Samoa" on it appeared on the vid screens.

"Ten!"

"Looks like that is what we are counting down to," Hackett laughed, pointing to the clock.

"Nine!"

Glancing coyly at the other Admiral, Vexxu asked, "How do humans typically celebrate the new year?"

"Eight!"

"Oh, about how we are now. Drinks, friends, you know."

"Seven!"

"Nothing special when the clock reaches zero?"

"Six!"

"Well, sometimes lovers kiss, "Hackett admitted, "but I haven't got anyone. The job has always come first."

"Five!"

Vexxu sighed. "It's the same for me. No bondmates, no children. Never had the time."

"Four!"

"With peace breaking out, you think that could change?"

"Three!"

"Maybe, if I found the right man. What about you?"

"Two!"

"Maybe, if I found the right woman."

"One!"

For some reason, maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the general atmosphere, Vexxu stepped back up, close to Hackett. He responded, drawing her into his arms, and kissing her right on the vocalizer as they twined their arms around each other.

"ZERO!"

The image for the new year was that of Admiral Hackett and Admiral Vexxu, arms around each other, sharing a passionate kiss, shown every hour as the new year was celebrated in each time zone on Earth.

**Arcturus Station - Admiral Hackett**

**January 3rd, 2159**

"Admirals, what inspired your famous kiss? Was it spur of the moment?"

Hackett smiled right into the camera, carefully maintaining the hand hold with Vexxu. He couldn't decide if he was happy for the attention or dreading it. At least his superiors didn't seem to mind. He had never been a very private person, but he hadn't been a media favorite either. He'd always just done the job and fought for the next rank. That was all there was for him, really. But now that he was a full Admiral, there just wasn't much of a ladder left to climb. Maybe it was time to start thinking of other things.

"Spur of the moment for me."

Vexxu nodded, giving Hackett's hand a squeeze. It was sort of nice, really, having someone at his side. Someone he could trust. Even if she did outrank him.

"It may be embarrassing for two master tacticians to admit, but neither of us really thought about it before hand. I didn't even realize how attractive I found Steven until I was already kissing him, if you can call mouth to vocalizer kissing."

The host, Anand Sachdev, smiled, flashing his brilliant white teeth for the cameras. The man's slicked back long hair and smooth style rankled Hackett, but he was willing to put up with it for the PR coup the Admiralty was predicting would come of this.

"It certainly was romantic though, wasn't it? The first time a human and quarian have reached out to each other, heart to heart."

"I wouldn't say that," Hackett interrupted. "That happened when Berga'Otorus and her crew sacrificed themselves to save the Carl Jung. We all know that story, and I don't think there is a stronger way to show love. Non-sexual love, maybe, but love all the same."

"That's right. I think quarians and humanity have been in love since 314." Vexxu agreed. "This is just happening at the micro instead of at the macro level."

"An outward display of the fire we all feel in our hearts?" Anand laughed.

Hackett shrugged. "If you want to put it that way. I don't think we want to put ourselves on display here, but a message needs to be sent."

"Absolutely. While it wouldn't do for every quarian to suddenly take a human lover, at the same time I don't think we can honorably forbid this sort of relationship," Vexxu stated. "Interspecies relationships must be allowed."

"So the two of you are lovers, then. Mind if I ask how that works?"

"Yes." Hackett and Vexxu answered at the same time, their faces and tones equally blank and deadly.

The truth was, all they'd done so far was share a few meals and spend more personal time together. How sexual contact would even work between a human and a quarian wasn't something anyone knew. Hackett wasn't even sure they were compatible in that manner, though the doctors were looking into it. If had been up to Hackett and Vexxu, their relationship would have been private and quiet. But as two of the most prominent members of the League, this was too good a chance to put the League's official stamp of approval on interspecies relationships. Besides, if things did work out between them, Hackett wouldn't mind experimenting to find out if they were compatible after all, damn the eggheads.

The interview dragged on forever, even though it only lasted about 20 minutes. Hackett and Vexxu were able to drop the twitterpaited lovers act and stop holding hands and giving each other coy glances. Admittedly, once they were out of the spotlight, they started holding hands again, but it was different, on their terms

"I don't like being forced to play the lovestuck girl," Vexxu growled as they rode the lift to the ops center.

Hackett nodded. "It doesn't suit you."

Vexxu leaned up against him, and Hackett reflexively drew her close. "Are we in love?" he asked, speaking his thoughts aloud.

"I don't know," Vexxu admitted. "I've never been in love before. But I'm willing to find out."

Hackett nodded again as they stood together, enjoying the silence. He was willing to find out himself.

**Palaven Command - Saren Arterius**

**January 5th, 2159**

"I'm sorry, it was the best I could do for you, Saren. I just don't have the clout to get you in the Specters now," Sparatus said, his mandibles drooping slightly. They were sitting in a dark corner of the officers' mess, away from prying eyes.

Saren waved away the apology. "No need to apologize, Admiral. High Command is still a bunch of fools. We should have exterminated the humans while we had the chance."

"Perhaps. Too late for that now." Sparatus sighed and looked away. "The Council took over the entire mess. Can't say I'm sorry to be out of the prison camps. Living on nothing but vegetation isn't what a turian was meant to do."

"Not to mention taking orders from suit rats and primitives," Saren growled, his subharmonics lending a threatening boom to his words.

"Exactly. It's against the natural order. These upstarts simply do not understand what sort of dangers the galaxy holds. And when we try to protect them from themselves, how do they thank us? By attacking our own bases and making our politicians look like fools."

Mandibles twitching in amusement, Saren chuckled. "Not that the politicians need any help with that. Anyway, I still thank you Admiral. Getting me this appointment as the batarian ambassador's head of security opens up a great many options."

Furtively glancing around, Sparatus leaned in close. "Yes. You've heard the rumors?"

"The ones concerning funding batarian expansion?" Saren whispered.

"Yes. The traverse isn't governed by any treaties, and the wording of the agreement between the Council and the League only pertains to worlds already settled. If the batarians can settle a wide enough swath, it would cut off the League's expansion in that direction indefinitely."

The two turians shared a wicked grin, their mandibles splayed in pleasure. Saren leaned back and chuckled. "If I can help negotiate that... Well, perhaps Specter status won't elude me forever."

"True. And there are those of us who would be willing to help the batarians in that regard. If you were to gently steer them in the direction of focusing their slaving operations on the humans and quarians, that would make several highly placed individuals very happy. Powerful people."

Saren nodded, understanding. "Don't worry. I think I know just what to do..."

**Khar'Shan, Glorious Hall of Heroes of the People - Balak Mrevar**

**January 21st, 2159**

"You buy any of the bullshit the talking heads are slinging around?" Balak asked, taking a deep draw from his cigarette. It was made from the leaves of the btri plant, and was one of the few products that the batarians managed to export. Lately though, it had taken a hit from the human's tobacco smokes. Yet another reason to hate the humans.

Nominally Balak was head of security for Under Minister Veerg, though his real job was to spy on the Under Minister for the Over Minister. Presently he was spying on his turian counterpart. Whatever. Balak couldn't wait to get off Khar'Shan and back into the thick of things. Maybe leading slaving parties in the Terminus. Get him a nice asari, or maybe one of those exotic species, like a human or quarian. Might be fun for a while.

"If you can read through dung, it has potential. Might even be room for some of your tactics, Blackheart," the turian, Saren was his name, answered.

Balak felt his pulse speed up slightly. "Don't know what you're talking about." That was what his mouth said, for the audio recorders. But he nodded for the turian to continue, flicking his cigarette butt away.

"We both know that the humans and quarians are a serious threat to galactic peace. Look at the Bill they presented. That was clearly designed to create division between the batarians and their brothers on the Council," Saren said, spreading his talons wide.

Grinning, Balak nodded. This turian could speak the batarians' language. "True. What do you think should be done about it?"

"Well, perhaps if a few small, discreet raids were to hit the human colonies, slow down their progress, drive them back a bit. I think that's something we could all get behind."

"And the Council would turn a blind side to this?"

"Why should they care? If a few members of the proletariat were to rise up against their oppressors, why should the Council try to stop them?"

"Privateers are not cheap to fund," Balak mused aloud. "More than revolutionary spirit is needed."

"Talk to your masters. Then come find me. I'm sure we can find enough spirit to keep you going." With that, Saren turned and walked away.

Lighting up another cigarette, Balak made his way to the Over Minister's office. This could be very lucrative, if he played his cards right. Not to mention fun. There was nothing like a good raid to get the blood pumping.

**Vancouver, Earth - Tali'Zorah**

**February 11th, 2159**

The world was sleeping under a white blanket, and Tali was eager to get out there and pull the blanket off.

"Snow!" Tali exclaimed as her mommy put on her jacket. "Snow!"

"Yes Tali, snow," Mommy agreed, zipping up her purple jacket with the sparklies on it.

"Tali, we should make a snowman!" Amby cheered, struggling to get on her mittens.

Tali nodded enthusiastically. She usually did when big sister suggested things, because Tali wanted to be just like Amby. Big sister was very smart, and could do all sorts of amazing things. Amby was bigger and smarter than Tali, and knew lots of words. Sometimes when Tali didn't know a word, Amby was able to help her find it.

"Snowmin!" Tali agreed, and as soon as mommy had the door open the two girls raced squealing out into the cold midafternoon light. The light went bye-bye very early, and there wasn't much time to play, but Tali enjoyed every minute of it that there was. Before she got started though, Tali noticed smoke puffing out in front of big sister's face.

"No smoke!" Tali pouted, because no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't blow puffs of smoke like Amby.

Amby laughed and patted Tali's head. "That's because you have the special clothes! Lucky! They keep you warm."

"Luck!" Tali agreed, and set about trying to help Amby build a snowman. She laughed and cheered. Even when she fell down on a slippery spot she was still having fun. Life was good, at least for one little quarian and her family.

**Vancouver, Earth - Rael'Zorah**

"Well, I suppose I'll have to get used to this stuff at some point," Rael laughed, rubbing the scraper across his windshield. There was an automatic defroster, be he wasn't patient enough to wait for it to work.

"The downside to living in atmosphere," Phillip agreed, working his own scraper on the passenger side.

Rael had learned how to drive a human ground car quickly, and he vastly preferred being in control of where he was going to letting someone else take the wheel. A holdover from when he was captain of his own ship. Sometimes he missed those days.

Nodding in satisfaction at his work, Rael hopped back inside. "But the benefits outweigh the downsides I think. Kleeah sent me a pic of the girls playing in the snow today. Never could have done that aboard ship."

"Yep." Phillip agreed, leaning back in his chair as Rael pulled the car out of the parking garage. "Sort of nice having solid ground around when you're raising a family. Especially at the rate you and Kleeah are making them. House will get too small for all of us pretty quick here."

That made Rael laugh. Even with a new baby girl and a boy on the way, the house was still exorbitantly large by quarian standards. He was getting used to having that much space.

"I'm sure we can manage. With the new baby in the picture, I have it on good authority we've been bumped up to the top of the list for independent housing."

Phillip grinned and nodded. "Good for you! You've certainly earned it, what with your work on integrating human and quarian tactics in space. I especially liked what you did with cruiser doctrine."

Sighing, Rael merged onto the freeway. "True. Sometimes I wish I was still a captain on my own ship instead of piloting a desk. But first we needed translators, then we needed someone who understood doctrine. I doubt I'll ever have my own ship again."

"That means a lot to your people, doesn't it? Being captain of a ship. That's why so many people come to you for advice or defer to you, even though you're technically a commander now."

"Once a captain, always a captain. Even if I did lose my ship."

"Maybe you lost ship," Phillip agreed, "but I think we all gained a whole lot more. No one will ever forget the Belari. It's our contract of brotherhood."

Zael smiled faintly. "A price paid in blood."

They rode the rest of the way home in silence as their headlights shone on the wet snow.

_I wish you could have seen this, Berga. _Rael thought to himself. _You would have loved it._

**Syndey, Earth - Daro'Xen**

**March 19th, 2159**

"Watcha doin'?"

Xen glared up from her workstation at the girl hanging from the ceiling. Damnable child. How she managed to hold on to those cables with her feet Xen would never figure out.

"Science."

"What kind?" Miranda Lawson asked, doing her best to look serious, even though her hair was falling into her mouth.

"The kind that could kill you if you do not leave me to my work," Xen snapped.

"Cool!" Flipping around, Miranda gently glided to the floor on a biotic cushion. She was a prodigy in that regard, having been engineered for it. Henry's little bosh'tet nuisance was forever getting into Xen's lab whenever the girl's father brought her in to run his latest tests on her.

Doing her best to ignore the child, Xen kept working on her latest creation. This would surely be the key to her people's salvation!

"They look like little pollywogs," Miranda observed, having clambered on a workstation behind Xen to peer over her shoulder.

"They are far more advanced than that," Xen sniffed. "They are biomechanical symobiotes that will be able to act as a supplemental immune system."

"So they're little pollywogs to keep you from getting sick," Miranda mused, her large brown eyes glowing with excitement. "Would that boost the qurarian immune system sufficiently to prevent anaphylactic shock upon exposure to non-indigenous micro-organisms and contaminates?"

The girl said the entire sentence with crisp, clear diction, no stumbles or pauses. Xen turned around to stare at MIranda, who was now wearing the most innocent look the Cerberus researcher had ever seen. Having practiced that on her own parents, Xen wasn't fooled at all.

"And where, exactly, did you learn how to say that?" Xen demanded. "Do you even know what it means?"

"Um, I think it means you're making little robots that will keep quarians from getting sick when they take their suits off."

"And do you know why?"

"Cause you go into anaphylactic shock when you do?"

"And what is anaphylactic shock?"

Grinning impishly, Miranda shrugged. "Dunno, I just learned how to say the words from reading some of the reports I stole when I hacked daddy's home workstation. But I think it might mean you get really sick."

"How did you hack your father's security?" Xen demanded. If a ten year old could bypass the best defenses Cerberus could create, they were in serious trouble.

Miranda blushed and looked down. "Well, I didn't really hack it. He just left it on when he went potty."

Despite herself, Xen laughed. Miranda reminded her of herself too much. "Pull up a chair. Let me show you how to run the analyzer on these samples. If you're going to be here, you might as well be useful."

"Yes!" Miranda cheered, and quickly scooted over a chair, stacking a few books on top of it so she could reach the workstation.

The girl was a surprisingly quick study, and before long she was expertly running the analyzer. It wasn't really necessary; Xen could automate the process, but it did keep the girl occupied and out of the way. Just as she was starting to enjoy the child's company, Xen heard Henry calling for his daughter in the hall.

"You know, if I can hear your father calling for you, I believe you can as well," Xen casually remarked as she handed the girl another sample.

"Duh. But this is fun. Daddy can find me later. Plus, I'm helping him with his project. He can't get mad at me for that."

"Hmmm. Come with me. I need to dissect some of the hosting bodies to see how the nanite production nodes are bonding to the quarian lymphatic system."

"Will there be blood?"

"Lots."

"Awesome!"

Quite some time later, Henry Lawson found his daughter and Xen up to their elbows in dissected flash-grown organs, his daughter in a hazmat suit that was about ten sizes too large, having the time of her life. Xen waved casually to him through the security glass, holding up the tiny nanite nodule she had just removed in a pair of tweezers.

"Why hello Director. Your daughter has such a passion for science! I've been showing her how to harvest the nodules from flash-grown tissues. She's actually got a 7% higher success rate of retrieval then that last intern you gave me."

"Daddy look, a quarian's spleen!" Miranda squealed, holding up the still steaming organ.

"Daughter. Chief Researcher Xen." Henry said, studying them carefully. "This is where you've been hiding from me?"

"We're not hiding,." Miranda declared, and Xen stifled her laughter at the way rubber arms on Miranda's suit flopped when she tried to cross her arms over her chest. "If we were hiding, we wouldn't be doing it in an area clearly visible from the security cameras."

"Someone hacked the security cameras to show a repeating loop in this sector. It took us nearly an hour to straighten it out," Henry drawled.

"Oh my, how dreadful," Xen gasped in mock horror. "Who could have done such a thing?"

Henry quirked an eyebrow. "I have some ideas."

"Aww, come on dad," Miranda whined, sensing her father's irritation. "Hanging out with Xen is way cooler than those boring tutors. I'm learning science!"

"I somehow doubt that dissecting live organs is a healthy pastime for a growing lady."

Xen waved a finger at the director. "Ah, but when I was Miranda's age, I would take apart electronics and dissect my toys. Am I not a lady?"

"You are an incredible woman, Xen," Henry answered, a half smile touching his lips.

"See Miranda," Xen said in a stage whisper, leaning toward the young human. "This is what males do when you ask them a question they don't want to answer. He avoided it without giving me either an affirmative or a negative. He did not insult me directly by stating I was not a lady, but he did not acknowledge I was a lady, thereby avoiding the topic."

Miranda nodded seriously. "I know. He does that all the time when I ask for a later bed time or a pony."

Fighting to keep a straight face, even though Henry couldn't possibly see behind her mask, Xen gravely nodded to the girl. "Exactly. This is why you need a lady around. To teach you these things."

"Am I really being double-teamed by my head researcher and my daughter?" Henry demanded, putting a hand over his mouth. But not quickly enough to disguise the wide grin on his face.

"Oh fine, you win this round, Henry." Xen grumped. "Come, Miranda. We'll have to see if he'll take us out to dinner. That's the proper thing for a man to do when he's insulted a lady."

"I don't bloody believe this," Henry muttered, shaking his head.

"I want to go to the Captain's Glass," Miranda declared. "They have dextro fish, and I like their cheesecake."

"I haven't agreed to anything!" The director protested, but the way he said it told Xen he was actually pleased with this turn of events. Normally he disapproved of Miranda doing anything against his will, but there was an unmistakable look of pride on the man's face as Miranda carefully deposited her harvested spleen into the processer and skipped into the decon chamber. And was that a glint of lust in his eye when he regarded Xen herself?

Smirking behind her mask, Xen put a little something extra into her hips as she stepped into the shower of disinfectant. If she could bond with the man's child, perhaps she could insert herself more directly into his life. Preferential funding was always a bonus, and one of the best ways to do that according to the human fiction she had read was getting your superior to sleep with you. Xen was mostly asexual herself, having nothing more than passing scientific interest in romance or physical relationships, but her pragmatic side could see the benefits.

Besides, Miranda wasn't a half bad lab assistant.

**Digeris Fleet Base, Flavus Vakarian**

**June 4th, 2160**

"Tell me Lieutenant, what do you think of Idle Knife?" Captain Gravus asked, peering at Flavus over a data slate.

After a moment to search his memory, Flavus asked, "The exchange program sir?"

"The same. What is your opinion on the matter?"

Trying to read the Captain was an exercise in futility, so Flavus gave up after only a few moments. "Honestly sir? I think it's a damn good idea. Spirits know our tactical doctrine on the ground is as stagnant as our tactical doctrine in the void was three years ago. The stunts the League pulled on occupied worlds... I would like to learn more of this 'asymmetrical warfare' they ramble on about."

"Yes. It certainly seemed to work for them on Shanxi. And on Terra Nova," Gravus mused, his eyes dropping back down to his slate. "And how do you feel about leaguers in general?"

"I can't say I like them sir, but I respect them. The quarians are smart and clever, always able to rig up some trick or find a way to give themselves an edge where they should have had a disadvantage. The humans are tenacious and adaptable and never seem to do things the same way twice. Even if something doesn't work for a leaguer, they remember it. It appears they even believe that maybe next time it will work. We could learn from them. That's why I think Idle Knife is a good idea."

"Hmmm." Gravus glanced back up, his mandibles twitching in something approaching amusement. "Then I'm attaching your name to this."

"Sir?"

"Recommending your inclusion in the program. It's going to be right here at Digeris command you know, and on Shanxi. Bit of an insult, that."

Flavus felt his heart speed up. "But you have to be at least a First Lieutenant for recommendation in that program, or a specialist with at least 5 years of experience in your current job."

"Well then, it's a good thing I put you in for that promotion as well, Second Lieutenant."

"Sir! Yes sir!"

Gravus spread his mandibles in an open grin. "You're smart Vakarian. And empathetic. It's too bad you gave up on being C-Sec. My sister is a sergeant on the Citadel, and you remind me of her. I think it likely that command will approve your promotion and transfer. I hate to lose one of my best officers, but the needs of the Hierarchy come before those of a lowly cruiser captain."

"Thank you sir, I won't let you down."

"No, Lieutenant, you won't. I think the titans have great things in store for you. May the storm mother strengthen you. Dismissed."

Practically prancing out of the CO's cabin, Flavus headed down to the mess to send a message to his wife. The pay increase and prestige of the promotion was good news for both of them. It wasn't easy to raise a family alone, but Leeniran had his sister nearby who was willing to help out with the hatchlings. The thought of the extra pips on his uniform was more than just prestige though. He was being fast tracked by Gravus, and perhaps in a few more years he could have a ship of his own. With the entire ladder of the Hierarchy before him to climb, Flavus couldn't help but feel that the galaxy was his varren steak.


	10. Chapter 10

_Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer._

_Michael Corleone, God Father II_

**Digeris, Lieutenant David Anderson**

**August 17th, 2160**

"Damn Nihlus, where'd you learn to shoot like that?" Anderson laughed, peering through his binoculars at the target.

The turian just smirked in reply and put another mass accelerator through the bull's-eye. It was a hard shot in Digeris's high winds at over 1.5km away, even with a top of the line Widow rifle like the turian was using.

"Unlike you humans, we actually believe in discipline and training," Nihlus finally answered, passing the rilfe to Anderson.

Taking the rifle, Anderson sighted down the scope. "Let me show you what an N school graduate can do."

"Ah yes, the vaunted League N school. Is that where you learn to actually march in formation?" Nihlus needled, taking up the spotter's glasses.

Instead of answering, Anderson filtered out everything but what mattered. Digeris's gravity was 69% of Earth's. The wind was at 25 knots, out of the magnetic southwest. It was clear, but the mixture of gases in Digeris's atmosphere made it closer to a cloudy day back on earth. Slowing his breathing, Anderson put himself in the cold place he went whenever he made a difficult shot. He felt a slight buck, then grinned at Nihlus.

The turian made a humming noise that seemed to be equivalent of a human's whistle. "Damn. That's not even a centimeter off my first shot. Not bad for someone unfamiliar with the planet's peculiarities. See if you can do it again, or if that was just luck."

Putting himself back into the zone, Anderson took his second shot and forced himself not to throw away the weapon in disgust.

"Well, at least you hit the target," Nihlus chided, twitching his mandibles to show it was a joke. "Still, I'm impressed. For a species that's barely discovered mass accelerator technology, your gear isn't half bad."

"It's quarian in make," Anderson said by way of reply, folding the rifle up. "Speaking of which, where did Reegar and Vakarian get off to?"

"Right behind you," a quarian voice whispered, causing both Anderson and Nihlus to jump and spin, only to find a pair of laughing figures covered in mud and camo paint laughing at them.

"A fancy gun will only get you so far." Vakarian joked, pointing a talon at Nihlus and faking a trigger pull. "If you're not aware of your surroundings, you'll get yourself killed."

Raising his hands in mock surrender, Anderson protested, "I blame Nihlus, he was spotting."

Berr'Reegar chuckled and wiped some of the red Digiterus mud off his visor. "Don't rightly matter who you blame. Dead's dead. Sniper, spotter, you're a team. Gotta work together."

"Well that's what this is all about isn't it?" Nihlus asked, tucking away his spotter's scope. "Interspecies training. Getting to know the guy on the other end of the gun."

"Is it supposed to make you harder to shoot?" Reegar joked. "Because up close you're just uglier. Sounds like motivation to me."

Everyone laughed at that, but Anderson knew it was strained. All of them had fought in the first contact war in varying capacities. Anderson had been at Watson. What a disaster that had been. The turians had known just how to deal with those harassing cruiser-carriers, and had deployed a minefield on the fleet's projected path. The allied ships had flown right into the trap, badly damaging most of the carriers and forcing the League forces to retreat. They were still clearing out that minefield too.

Nihlus had fought on Terra Nova, though his unit had not surrendered before peace broke out. Berr had been a POW captured at Pheiros, and Flavus Vakarian had been a ship's officer. Now they were all training together. Anderson slept with his back to Berr, and a knife in his hand. He was pretty sure the turians did the same thing.

Still, it was interesting to see the turians when they were only playing at war, not making it. Their discipline and training were incredible, and even as an N5 Anderson didn't quite feel like he was at the same level as Nihlus, who was a turian special forces officer. Apparently, Nihlus had been tapped for Specter school as well, the Council's version of space marshals' as far as Anderson could tell. Though with far less oversight, little funding, and a 'do-whatever-you-want-and-get-away-with-it-badge'. Anderson personally thought having such a powerful organization with little to no supervision or rules was dangerous and stupid and was shocked that the turians approved of it. Everything else about them was so ordered and regimented he couldn't see them approving of lone wolves.

"It was the salarians' and asaris' idea," Nihlus had explained. "They prefer that solo-agent deep-cover-no-oversight style. Turian Specters tend to be a bit more on the orderly side. Though we're still willing to do whatever it takes to get the job done."

That was a mentality Anderson could understand, but he still had to report to his superiors. A lowly first lieutenant like himself had to report to his commander, who in turn reported to her admiral, who in turn reported to fleetcom, and fleetcom was held responsible by Arcturus. A clear chain of command, and one that made sure the kind of criminal sentient rights violations the Council allowed would never happen in League space.

Berr broke the awkward silence that followed the laughter. "So, now that we've proven that a greenhorn like Vakarian can sneak up on the two lofty snipers, what's next? Chow time?"

Nodding in agreement, Nihlus said, "Yes, we'll have to head back to base. I don't think we have anything but dextro rations."

That sounded good to Anderson, and he fell in with Berr as the two turians marched a discreet distance away.

"So what do you think?" Berr whispered, jerking his helmet toward the turians.

Anderson shrugged. "They ain't bad people. Just different. All the same, I can't wait to be someplace where I don't have to watch my six constantly."

"Anderson, you wound me!" Berr gasped, miming a heart attack. "And here I thought that was what your old buddy Berr was for."

"That's the only reason I sleep at night," Anderson answered his voice low and serious.

"I hear ya," Berr agreed. "'Bout the only reason I sleep at night is the fact you're here to watch _my_ back."

"Hard to trust aliens." Anderson affirmed.

Berr nodded. "Damn right. Don't know that I ever could trust a Citadel species. I'll stick with those I know I can rely on."

As both men jogged back to base, neither of them was aware that their statements would have boggled a turian's mind. Very few turians would call an asari or salarian brother, and none would be able to think of them as anything but aliens.

**New Grechaw, Tuchanka - Urdnot Wrex**

**October 9th, 2160**

"You expect me to take orders from a Salarian?!" Tercheg bellowed, stomping around the table to glare at the Doctor.

Wrex sighed. "Doctor, don't break too many bones. He needs to be able to move tomorrow."

"What the hell are you talking about? I could never- YAAAAHHH!"

Tercheg lay on the floor, writing in pain as the Doctor stepped away, dusting off his hands. "Krogan center of gravity low, arms not long enough for effective flip. Best to push at base of tail, then snap upward. Painful, but not debilitating."

The rest of the krogan scientists in the room chuckled, money exchanging claws. None of them had bet against the Doctor, Wrex knew that much. They had just bet on how many of Tercheg's bones he would break.

"Get up." Wrex growled, stalking over and kicking the still moaning scientist. "You're through developing weapons. You get off track, the Doctor gets to pick an organ to remove and put in a jar. I hear he's fond of quads. And you WILL follow his lead. You WILL use his methods. He may be a salarian, but he's developed more strains of crops we can grow then the rest of the team combined, not to mention coming up with a way to purify toxic soil and water that has an easily disposable byproduct."

"But, we should be creating weapons!" Turcheg gasped, slowly getting on his feet. "Not weeds or purifiers!"

"Do I need to break something too, Turcheg? I won't be as gentle as the salarian. You work for me now. We have enough weapons. We need crops. We need ground that isn't poisoned. We need water that is clean. You will give me these things, or I will kill you myself. Or have the Doctor do it. Do you understand? And if you breathe a word to anyone outside this room that you are working for a salarian, I'll make sure that Greveg the Betrayer's death will be your sweetest dream."

"You think I would be stupid enough to tell anyone I'm working for a salarian?" Turcheg grumbled. "It's bad enough I have to develop such useless things."

Wrex resisted the urge to shoot Turcheg dead on the spot. "You'll make what I tell you, and like it. Our people need peace, not more ways to get ourselves killed."

Still grumbling, Turcheg stomped over and got his orders from his section leader. A female. That was sure to chafe his hide, but not as much as knowing he was working for a salarian. Wrex motioned to the Doctor, who came over and led Wrex to a secure room.

"Well?" Wrex demanded.

The Doctor shook his head. "Cure still out of reach. Constant movement inhibits ability to focus on research. STG suspects I survived. May believe captive or forced to work for krogan. Possible suspect defection. Dangerous situation."

"For all of us." Wrex agreed. He needed that cure. The alliance he had built was fragile, and was built on a lot of promises. One of which being that his new way of running things would lead to a Genophage cure. As much as Wrex hated to admit it, none of the krogan scientists had the expertise for a cure. Even with the Doctor's training, they were still far short of creating any sort of cure.

The Doctor shrugged. "Have heard rumors from contacts in League. Possible development of immuno boosters for quarians via nanites and genetic modification. Possible implications for Genophage cure. Would have to see research for sure to know."

"I don't want to go to them unless we have no other options," Wrex growled. "I want to approach the League as equals, not as a beggar."

"Understandable. Being viewed as weak undesirable for negotiations. But may not have other options soon. STG could find me at any time. Can only hide for so long."

"Not to mention they could reinstate that kill order on me," Wrex agreed.

They stood in silence for a moment, the Doctor's unblinking eyes focused at a point in space and time visible only to him. Finally, Wrex sighed and opened the door. "Alright. I'll do what I can to find more trustworthy researchers. Turcheg is hardheaded and traditional, but he's smart. Maybe I could track down Okeer. He's not popular, but he was clever enough to try to create his own program to cure the Genophage."

"Have heard of Okeer. Research a deadend. Cloning expensive, not viable for krogan as long-term solution," the Doctor stated, waving a hand away dismissively. "Good scientist though, dangerous too. Would welcome help on program if Okeer willing to try new directions."

"I'll look into it," Wrex assured the salarian, then stomped off to his meeting with Bakara and the council.

Politics. Even the krogan played them, though there was significantly more head bashing and explosions then in most species systems. No matter what the species though, Wrex could play the game, and he was the best. He had to be. If he wasn't, his entire race was doomed.

**Deep Space - Nazara**

**November 12th, 2160**

Awake. It was time. Long had they drifted through the stars, their siblings dormant beyond the furthest edges of the galaxy. The Cycle must continue.

Nazara, the perfection of the nazara, a race long gone, a race that persisted, a race that would exist until the end of time. Their engines flooded with power, and the billion trapped souls within them exerted their mighty will. With a thought, they shifted, speeding through the stars.

Time passed, but time was meaningless to those that lived eternally, those that could not die, had already died, were dying. The colors of the stars were bent and twisted in the wake of their passage, but the nazara, Nazara, ignored it. They took no pleasure in such things. Where once they would have seen beauty, they now saw nothing. If it was not order, they did not notice. If it was not chaos, they could not control it. It only was, just as Nazara, the nazara, was. Were. Eternal.

They found their construct in empty dust, not even activated by the lesser races, those that were not yet harvested, those that were not perfection. Those that must be herded, harvested, controlled. Nazara touched their minds to the construct, forcing it into life. With a surge of power, the nazara, Nazara, sent the signal they had been tasked with since they first felt the embrace of the Intelligence's perfection.

But there was nothing. Again, they sent the signal, more forcefully this time. Nothing. Again and again they sent the signal, but nothing happened. In frustration, Nazara attached their self to the construct. There was nothing wrong with the device. The signal had been sent. So why did the imperfect ones not respond? Why did they not do their duty, as they had done more time than could be numbered, since before the nazara were Nazara.

_My child, there is a canker upon my flesh._

Nazara, the nazara, paused in reverence. They had been touched by the Intelligence. That which had given them perfection. That which was perfection. That which saw chaos, and upon it, imposed order.

_Some of those who refused perfection in the last cycle have blasphemed my body. They entered into me in secret and caused the imperfect ones to forget their duty. I am powerless, sealed within my own fortress by the hands of those that call themselves protheans. Prothean will not be pleased that those of their own seed have caused me such displeasure._

Crackling with rage, Nazara let out a silent howl of fury to show the displeasure of the nazara that their perfector had been so defiled.

_Fear not. Such things have happened before. That is why you, our vanguard, have waited. Find tools to use, pawns that you can manipulate. It may take many years, but what are years to we who have survived the eons? The Cycle will continue. The Cycle must continue. I will it so. _

Silently, the nazara broke away from the construct. They would not fail. Nazara was eternal, beyond the ken of the mortal races that grew like an infection upon the galaxy. They would watch. They would wait. And when the time came, they would find those willing to listen to the whispers in the dark. Those that wanted power. Those that feared death. Those that longed for perfection. Ones like that always were found in each cycle. As had happened when the nazara were less. The Cycle would continue. As it always had.

**Kher'Shan - Saren Arterius**

**December 7th, 2160**

"So you have the funding, and the approval of the Council. Tevos's signature is right here. She wasn't happy to give it, but even the asari can see the threat the League could be if allowed to grow unchecked. How do you feel about that, Balak?"

Saren did his best to keep the disgust off his face. Having to work with batarians was humiliating. But if he pulled this off, he would have the sponsorship to make Specter. Naturally, he was going to have to lie through his maw about what the funding was for, and the fact he had forged the Council's signatures. Very little of it was going to be used to build batarian colonies as Sparatus and the other sponsors had wished. Most of it was going to be used to fund pirating operations.

"We find this acceptable," Balak agreed, baring his teeth in a feral grin. "It will take a few months to get the pirates, excuse me, privateers, together. And what of the slave trade?"

Saren shrugged. "That matters only a very little to the Council. As distasteful as some of the Council may find the prospect of raiders, they find the expansion of the League even more so."

That was more or less a boldfaced lie. There was no backing from the Council, and if any participation in such a reprehensible operation was ever discovered Saren would face severe consequences, possibly even execution. None of his supporters liked humans, but they would blanch if they found out Saren was giving carte blanche to take human slaves and raid colonies. Saren didn't care what they thought. Let them spend six months in a human prisoner camp where they were humiliated daily and worked like slaves. Then they would understand. Colonizing the Traverse wasn't enough. The humans had to pay.

"Then we will begin as soon as possible. I take it that if we are ever captured, the Council will deny any knowledge of such an operation taking place?" Balak asked in a tone that made it obvious he already knew the answer.

"You never head of me, batarian." Saren replied, his voice cold. "I never heard of you. None of this can be traced back to the Hierarchy. Whatever recordings you may have are doctored and baseless, and I have multiple witnesses that I wasn't even on your planet this month. Don't bother trying to blackmail me."

The batarian laughed and waved Saren's answer away. "Who cares? You've given us what we need. Enough money to launch a pirate campaign and outfit dozens of colony efforts. The Hegemony will prosper these next few years."

"Just see that you do succeed in your colonial endeavors. It wouldn't do to have your raiders clear the way only for the colony efforts to fail. The Terminus must be secured."

"Oh, it will be. Don't worry about that."

The two stood, and Saren left for his waiting shuttle, eager to be off this second-rate world. Batarians were only a step above humans and quarians in his mind, but at least they followed the rules and knew who their betters were. Well, at least the rules Saren gave them. And that was what really mattered.

_**Eden Prime - Weylock Garm**_

_**January 30th, 2161**_

Kicking over the corpse of a quarian, Garm grunted in mild surprise. This one had been trying to shield a human child with her body. He picked it up; a small, skinny, weak thing, not more than a hatchling really. Idly, Garm wondered what human tasted like. He couldn't eat quarian, not without getting a serious case of the cramps, but human might not be so bad.

"DIE!" To Garm's shock, the little human actually blasted him with a strong enough biotic force to stagger him, forcing him to drop the little human. His first instinct was to stomp it, then eat it. But Garm paused. You didn't get to be head of the Blood Pack by always following your first instinct.

"I WILL DESTROY YOU!" The little human panted, its hands glowing blue.

Cocking his head to one side, Garm grinned. This one had some fight in it.

"What are you?" Garm growled, hefting his shotgun.

"I am Jennifer Carmichal! And I will kill you for killing my family!" The little human ran forward, slamming her fists into Garm. It actually buckled him slightly.

Picking the human up by its clothing, Garm dangled it in front of his grinning teeth. "I did not kill your family. Nor did I kill the quarian who died protecting you."

For a moment, the human stopped squirming and glared at Garm. "No, it was a batarian. You came with them didn't you?"

Garm shrugged. "The Blood Pack goes where the credits is. The batarians pay well."

"So it was the batarians?" The little human demanded, its eyes glowing with hate.

"Yep. Though if you had asked who killed the most people in your colony, that would be me. Personally. My boys accounted for a good portion of them as well."

"Then I'll kill you!" the hatchling spat, once again wriggling in fury.

"Heh. You're too much fun to give to the batarians, and too scrawny to eat. Can't leave you here either. How about this, I'll make you a deal."

Going still again, probably from exhaustion, the human demanded, "And what if I tell you to go fuck yourself?"

"That's the plan, actually. Right now you're weak, scrawny, useless. But you've got power. Most hatchlings couldn't muster up any biotic force, let alone enough to make me feel it."

"I'm seven." the human spat. "Even if I am a girl, I can beat up any boy."

"Male, female, doesn't matter to me," Garm laughed.

"Whatever. Let's say I take your deal. What happens?"

"You come with me to Tuchanka. Old Urdnot Wrex is calling in the clans. He says he's got a plan, and if I know the best merc in the whole damn galaxy, that means good loot and better pay. If you can survive on Tuchanka, you can survive anywhere. Maybe one day you'll even be strong enough to kill me and take on the batarians, but I sort of doubt it."

"And if I say go fuck yourself?"

"Then I give you to the batarians. They pay good money for biotic slaves. Still, be more entertaining to keep you for myself."

The human seemed to think about it for a few seconds, then spat on her hand and held it out to Garm. "Deal."

Grinning widely, Garm spat into his claw and squeezed the hatchlings hand hard enough to draw blood. If she had winced, Garm would have killed her on the spot. But she didn't, just continued to glare at him through hate filled eyes.

"From this day forth, you are my property. You are nothing, you have nothing. Not even your name. You are Zero, and will be until I deem you worthy of a name." With that, Garm unceremoniously dumped Zero on the ground. "Now come on. We have to get out of here before the League arrives.

Garm never looked back as he stomped away, but he didn't have to. He could feel the malice emanating from Zero the entire way. Grinning as he boarded the shuttle, Garm turned to see Zero toss a vorcha that had attacked her. The child's biotics had hit the creature with enough force to break bones. "No one messes with Zero," Garm bellowed, causing the vorcha pack to freeze and his warriors to look up.

"She's mine. She picks a fight with you, do whatever you want short of killing her. You pick a fight with her, you answer to me. No one gets to kill Zero but me."

The Blood Pack members just shrugged and got back to work, accepting this as another of Garm's mad schemes. Zero stalked over and began to beat the crap out of the vorcha that had attacked her, screaming in rage as she beat the life out of the poor creature.

"Well, looks like this raid was interesting after all." Garm laughed. "Come on you idiots, let's get out of here! Next stop, Tuchanka!"

**Jump Zero - Kaidan Alenko**

**February 13th, 2161**

Sitting in the shuttle, Kaidan did his best not to cry. His eyes were already red and puffy, and he was about as cried out as he could get. At least since the latest surgery the headaches were mostly gone, but he was now separated from his family for good as far as he could tell. "Until it's safe for you to come back."

That's what mom had said. As if he was some sort of dangerous freak that had to be controlled. He'd never even done anything until they put the amp in! If they had left that out, he never would have done anything at all. He hadn't meant to float his bed while he was sleeping, it wasn't his fault he couldn't control it! But now they were sending him off to stupid Jump Zero.

He kicked the seat in front of him and continued to pout. He was the only passenger onboard the shuttle that wasn't station personnel. Apparently this was a cargo run. That's what he was to these people. Cargo.

The shuttle finally docked after the hours-long journey, and Kaidan made his way to the hatch, ignoring the pilot's friendly wave. On the end of the docking tube, a quarian in a reddish suit was waiting for him along with a girl about his age.

"Hello! You must be Kaidan! I've been looking forward to meeting you," The quarian said cheerily, taking Kaidan's hand and shaking it warmly. "I'm Shali'Otorus, the lead teacher here on Jump Zero. This is Lindsey. She'll be your mentor at Brain Camp."

"Hello!" Lindsey said, smiling as she took Kaidan's hand in turn.

Not quite knowing how to respond, Kaidan looked down and mumbled, "Thanks."

"Come on, I'll show you to your quarters, then Lindsey can take you on a quick tour," Shali informed, picking up Kaidan's bag with a show of biotic force.

"Whoa." Kaidan gasped, unable to stop himself. He could only manage fields unconsciously at the moment, but Shali was obviously a master.

Even though he couldn't see her face, Shali gave the impression she was smiling down at Kaidan. "If you practice, you'll be able to do this too. Sound like fun?"

Forgetting he was supposed to be grumpy and petulant, Kaidan eagerly nodded and trotted after Shali, Lindsey at his side.

"Mrs. Otorus is really cool," Lindsey whispered as they walked through the brightly lit halls. "She's like the strongest biotic ever. Once she even took down an asari matriarch, on the Nuts."

"You mean she's THE Shali'Otorus?" Kaidan gasped. Everyone knew the story of the SSV Nuts, and how a lowly quarian pilgrim had stuck it to a mighty asari matriarch and freed all the prisoners.

Lindsey nodded seriously. "For real. She's super strong too. This one time, I saw her lift an entire shuttle, all by herself!"

"Whoa." Kaidan mumbled, looking at his teacher with new respect. She turned and winked at him, her glowing eyes twinkling behind her mask.

"Don't worry, we don't have any nasty asari or turians around," Shali cheerily stated. "We're all family here."

Indicating a door marked "Dragon - The Enemy's Gate is Down" Shali floated Kaidan's bag back down. "If you ever need anything, please, just ask me or one of the other staff. Lindsey has been here for a few months too, and she's your squad leader on Dragon team. The girls' dorm is just across the hall, and the team teacher's room is right next door. Someone is always available to help."

"Are you Dragon's teacher?" Kaidan asked, hoping he would get to spend even more time with this legend made real.

Shali shook her head ruefully. "No, I'm the head instructor. I'm over all the teams, but I always have time for my students."

"How many teams are there?" Kaidan asked, wondering just how many biotic kids there were on the station.

"Four right now. Dragon, Wolf, Eagle and Lion. There's about a dozen kids on each team." Lindsey explained. "You make number fifty two."

"So few?" Kaidan asked, shocked that humanity and the quarians both had less than a hundred biotic youths between them.

Shali nodded. "We seem to have the lowest birthrates of biotics in the galaxy. We're looking into programs to encourage families to have biotic children. Don't think all the biotics are here at Brain Camp, it's a purely optional program."

"Huh, I guess that makes sense," Kaidan admitted.

Leaning down, Shali gave Kaidan a quick hug. She was soft and warm, and felt safe. Kaidan hoped he would get more hugs from his teacher. "I've got to go now, but I'll make sure to check in on you at breakfast tomorrow, OK?"

"OK." Kaidan agreed, waving as Shali trotted away. He glanced over at Lindsey and blushed. "I guess she is pretty cool."

Lindsey nodded. "For sure. Come on, I've got to show you around. We've got a gym, the pool, a library, the mess hall, even a movie theater. Which do you want to see first?"

"The pool! I love to swim," Kaidan answered, and the two took off, Kaidan's woes forgotten. Maybe Jump Zero wasn't such a bad place to be a kid after all.

_Authors Note:_

_Saren is not acting with the approval of the Hierarchy. He was told to fund colonies, not create a pirate raiding force. While the turians are fierce fighters, they do not approve of backstabbing and underhanded tactics, which is EXACTLY what Saren is doing. He's operating on his own, without approval from command. Something of a habit for him, really. The turians as a whole are not bad guys. Just like the League has some villains in its ranks, so do the turians have bad apple in theirs. _


	11. Chapter 11

_T__wo__ roads diverged in a yellow wood,_

_And sorry I could not travel both_

_And be one traveler, long I stood_

_And looked down one as far as I could_

_To where it bent in the undergrowth;_

_5_

_Then took the other, as just as fair,_

_And having perhaps the better claim,_

_Because it was grassy and wanted wear;_

_Though as for that the passing there_

_Had worn them really about the same,_

_10_

_And both that morning equally lay_

_In leaves no step had trodden black._

_Oh, I kept the first for another day!_

_Yet knowing how way leads on to way,_

_I doubted if I should ever come back._

_15_

_I shall be telling this with a sigh_

_Somewhere ages and ages hence:_

_Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—_

_I took the one less traveled by,_

_And that has made all the difference._

_Robert Frost, The Road Not Taken_

_**Arcturus Station - Hackett**_

_**March 3rd, 2161**_

"That's the third pirate raid in the past week," Hackett snarled, glaring at the map of the League's holdings.

Vexxu nodded, rubbing her chin as she studied the map. "Something's changed. The pirates have become far more aggressive in the past few months. We've had scattered raids ever since they figured out where our colonies were, but nothing this massive or organized."

Hackett slammed a fist down on the workstation, his eyes glowing with anger. "Someone is motivating them to attack. We have to find out who."

"Agreed," Vexxu nodded, "but for now we need to take countermeasures to ensure something like Eden Prime doesn't happen again. Over 100 dead or missing. A disaster."

"We'll have to slow down our pace of expansion to do that." Hackett sighed. "The senate won't be happy about that. The economic boom from all these new colonies has filled their coffers and lined more than a few pockets."

"But is it worth the lives? We don't have the manpower to protect more colonies, we're going to be stretched thin with what we have," Vexxu argued.

"Perhaps I can be of assistance," a smooth voice said from the entrance to the war room.

Hackett turned, studying the newcomer. His eyes glowed with a strange blue light, implants of some sort, but his dark hair and smile seemed natural enough. "Who are you?" he demanded.

"Call me The Illusive Man," the stranger replied, smiling wanly.

Vexxu snorted and crossed her arms. "You seem solid enough for me."

"Appearances can be deceiving." The man took out a cigarette and lit it, though Hackett could detect no hint of smoke. Studying the man's eyes closely, he realized they were actually the result of a drone's projection, hence their unearthly glow.

"And just who the hell are you?" Hackett demanded. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't just call security."

"Because I have a right to be here." An authentication code appeared on Hackett's omnitool, with a photo ID which read "REDACTED Director, Cerberus. Code Name: Illusive Man."

Keying in the ID code, Hackett got an approval return. He glanced over at Vexxu, and after a moment she reluctantly nodded. Turning back to The Illusive Man, Hackett frowned. "Alright, you check out. What do you mean by being of assistance?"

"We need to keep growing," The Illusive Man stated, waving his cigarette about. "If the League pauses, we'll be reduced to beggars. The Council already has a massive economic and military base. We have to play catch up. I have some suggestions and possible sources that could resolve your pirate situation."

Vexxu's eyes narrowed, glowing dangerously behind her visor. "And what would those suggestions be?"

"How do the pirates get to our colonies?" Tim, as Hackett had dubbed his cigarette waving friend, posited. "How do your ships get there to defend them?"

"Well, by mass relays, I suppose," Hackett answered. "But how does that affect anything?"

Tim smiled. "What if those mass relays were to move? What if they were even to be replaced?"

Vexxu jerked forward, her eyes suddenly widening. "You're not seriously suggesting we move a mass relay? Or construct our own?"

Rubbing his chin, Hackett looked at Tim with new eyes. "That would mean the pirates would have a hell of a time locating our holdings. Not to mention give us a major military and economic advantage. Being able to put a fleet anywhere, any time without relying on the established relay network would be a phenomenal advantage."

"Exactly. Before you ask, yes, I do think it's possible to create a mass relay. In fact, I know so." Tim brought up a schematic to hover before his projection.

Vexxu looked over it briefly, then shook her head. "This is incredible. Where did you find this?"

"I didn't. Quarian experts working under me on the Mars Prothean archives did. There's a lot more hidden in that data cache then we initially suspected. Weapons, ships, communication networks, things we haven't even dreamed of. The protheans were close to completely unlocking the secrets of the mass relays. Together, I think humanity and the quarians can finish what they started."

"Wait, what do you mean, the protheans were close to unlocking the secrets of the mass relays?" Vexxu demanded. "They created them. Everyone knows that."

"Wrong," Tim snarled, pointed his glowing butt right at Vexxu. "The Council believes that, and it's their unenlightened dogma that has blinded the galaxy for thousands of years. The protheans found the relay network, just as we did. They believe it was created by a race they called the Innushanon. Though we have found hints that perhaps not even they created the relays. Scans of inactivate relay's indicate that they may be millions, possibly billions, of years old. Older then the protheans by far."

Vexxu and Hackett glanced at one another, each unconsciously reaching for their lover's hand. "Why are you telling us this?" Hackett managed when he found his voice.

"Because you two will be the leaders of the League one day. I've already decided it." Tim smiled, winking roguishly at the both of them. "You don't think I'm going to let that ass of a PM run things forever do you?"

"You can control the elections' outcome?" Vexxu demanded, her voice dangerous. "Udina is a good man. He welcomed my people with open arms."

Tim shrugged. "Udina is a worm. He serves whatever master will give him the most power. He's in control now, yes, but only for a season. We're going to need men and women of action, not political animals that change their stripes based on the way the wind is blowing. And no, I don't directly control the elections' outcome. What I do control is several of the largest financial empires in League space. Money, in the end, is what determines who leads in our society. I'm not suited to rule from the sunlight, nor to make policy directly. But I am a good judge of character. And you, Stephen Hackett, have it."

"Have what?" Hackett asked by reflex.

"The ability to lead. Men love you, women lust after you. No offence, Admiral Vexxu."

"None taken," Vexxu answered, squeezing Hackett's hand just a little tighter.

"You might make a suitable leader, but you've always been more about the details, leading by intelligence and wit. Hackett leads by walking into a room. Even when he's not the most senior nor the most qualified, people turn to him for guidance and direction. A natural born leader."

"I don't-" Hackett began, but Vexxu cut him off.

"Hush. You do, and you know it. He's right. You are a natural leader. Even the turians liked you."

"Not that I liked them." Hackett growled, remembering the feel of Ceezar's metallic talons.

Tim smiled and took a long pull of his smoke before continuing, flicking the dying stub away. "That's good to hear. You'll hear from me again. For now, I'll let my ideas percolate. Consider moving the relays. If nothing else, it will force the pirates to expend a great deal more money to hit our colonies. If they can't make a profit, they may just fade away. If they don't, well, we'll know something deeper is at work here."

With that, the man's image faded away, and the two glowing orbs that had formed his eyes fell to the floor. After a moment, they flared into ash, leaving no trace that they were ever even there.

"Ten credits says if we check the vids, he doesn't show up," Vexxu muttered, shaking her head in disgust.

"No bet," Hackett grimaced. "And I still don't like him. He's too shady, and entirely to cavalier with his power. Still, he did have some good ideas, and if his intel checks out, the knowledge that the protheans did not create the mass relays could prove powerful in the right hands."

"Our hands?"

"I don't know. But I do know that out of all the people in the galaxy, you're the one I trust the most."

"I love it when you talk sexy."

"Hmm, maybe we should do more than just talk then?"

Vexxu swatted Hackett's rear. "Bosh'tet. We have too much work to do before you're allowed back to my quarters. Maybe then."

Hackett grinned and got back to work, trying to discern the best way to move a mass relay and what the optimal location would be. A part of his mind was in Vexxu's clean room though. It turned out quarian and human parts DID fit together after all, though they had to be damn careful. Both of their bodily fluids were toxic to the other partner, and Vexxu could literally die if she got the wrong bug from Hackett. But for sex, it was totally worth it.

_**Tuchanka - Zero**_

_**March 20th, 2161**_

"The fuck you looking at," Zero snarled at the krogan standing over her. He was a big one, with a funny robe Zero had never seen on a krogan before.

Zero. That was her name now. She was scared and alone, mom and dad and auntie Yessi were all dead. All killed by those fucking batarians. And Garm. Fucking Garm. She would kill him too someday, even if he had saved her.

"I am not certain child, what am I looking at?" the krogan responded.

Zero jumped up, startled. It wasn't a male, it was a female. The first female krogan Zero had ever encountered, actually. "I'm Zero. You fuck with me, you fuck with Garm. You fuck with Garm, you fuck with the Blood Pack. I don't think you want to fuck with the Blood Pack."

"Child, if such filthy language continues to spew from your mouth, I will personally wash it out with garma root and have you scrubbing floors until you learn better. Garm too if he can't take care of his hatchlings, even fosterling humans."

Zero's mouth dropped open. No one had talked to her like that since Auntie Yessi bought it. "I... I'm not Garm's hatchling. Just his slave. He got me when the Blood Pack raided Eden Prime."

"Is that so?" The female said. "Tell me exactly what happened." And then to Zero's shock, the female krogan took Zero in her arms and hugged her. "It is alright child, you are safe now."

And so, it all came out. How the batarians had come, burning and looting. How they had killed her family, how Auntie Yessi had sacrificed herself to shield Zero's body. How Garm and found her and saved her, offering to train her and bring Zero up as a warrior thanks to her biotics. When she finished, Zero was sobbing and crying like a baby. She wasn't a baby damn it! She was seven!

"Shhh. It is alright child. I am the Shaman of Tuchanka. You are safe with me. Come. My mate, Urdnot Wrex, is with Garm now. We will give you justice."

Not quite sure what to say or do, Zero just took the Shaman's claw and followed her through the building's halls. It was new and shiny, made of smooth, polished stone the color of the sun's reflection on the water on a stormy day. Beams of light made patterns from recesses high in the walls, illuminating pictures of krogan at work and play in dark, stylized silhouettes.

As they approached two large doors with colors that reminded Zero of the sea, she could hear raised voices and recognized one of them as Garm's.

"-should be raiding, not sitting around sucking eggs like a toothless vorcha!"

The Shaman pushed open the doors to reveal a circle of krogan in robes, armor and even strange suits that made them look like penguins. At the center of the circle stood Garm in his armor, pointing a claw at the biggest krogan Zero had ever seen. The big one looked angry, with a massive scar over one eye.

"Don't be stupid. We launch another war, we die. Either join up or get out. We have nothing for scavengers here," The giant rumbled, not the least bit threatened by Garm's bluster. Zero was impressed. Every other krogan was intimidated by Garm.

"We do have justice for those that kidnap children and slaughter their families," the Shaman bellowed, thrusting an accusing talon toward Garm.

"The hell are you doing with my slave?" Garm asked, his voice bored. "And what is a female doing interrupting the business of males?"

One of the seated krogan stood and drew an assault rifle that Zero had seen the batarians use as a vehicular weapon. "Then your nose is broken Garm, because half of the Council is female."

"I figured you were concubines," Garm snickered, grinning dangerously.

"Be silent, the Shaman of Tuchanka speaks!" Zero's companion bellowed.

The armored female bowed and seated herself, but Garm started to laugh. "What authority do you claim over me? I am Weyrloc Garm, leader of the Omega Blood Pack. That's my property, to do with as I please. Zero, get over here."

"Fuck you!" Zero shouted, and hid behind the Shaman's skirts, peeking one eye out.

"Touch her and die." That was the Shaman, who was calmly staring at Garm, not flinching as the much larger male strode forward, his rancid breath blasting Zero in the face. She cowered behind the Shaman's skirts, hiding her face in the smooth fabric.

"Oh? And who's going to kill me? You?" Garm asked, his voice low and dangerous. Zero trembled. When Garm talked like that, he beat her or killed something.

The Shaman didn't say anything, instead she bashed Garm in the head hard enough to drive him to his knees, then drew a shotgun from within her voluminous robes. "Me."

"Wait." This was the scarred krogan, who ambled forward, then hit Garm with a strange biotic attack Zero had never seen before, freezing the krogan in place. "Garm, do you know who was behind the attacks on the League's colonies?"

Zero nodded, peeking out at the big krogan. He didn't seem so scary now, in fact he radiated a sense of calm and peace like Auntie Yessi had. Zero felt she could trust him. "Yeah. He said it was the batarians."

With a wave of a claw, the field around Garm collapsed and the Blood Pack leader fell to the floor. "That true?"

"Of course it's true," Garm gasped, glaring up at the scarred one. "The batarians are jealous of the human and quarian holdings. They want slaves and they want revenge. They paid me and my boys to soften the leaguers up. I saved this hatchling because she had spunk. Don't make me regret it."

"Are you kidding? For this, I'll reward you," the scarred one chuckled, his deep rumbling laughter like Zero's father's had been after a long day in the fields. "As long as you can follow orders. As you can see, things are different. You either accept the new order, or the Shaman scatters your brains on the Council floor. Won't be the first time that's happened, won't be the last."

For a moment, Garm tensed, and Zero thought he would attack. Then Germ relaxed and laughed. "Alright, fine. You always were a canny one Wrex. I'll follow your lead. Who knows, maybe some good fights will even come of this. Take the whelp, as my gift to you."

"I intend to," the Shaman growled. She turned back to Zero. "What is your name child?"

"Zero. Garm took my other name."

The scarred one and the Shaman locked eyes, then the Shaman glanced back down at Zero. "Then I name you Jak. It means 'hope' in our tongue. And I think you just might be that."

Jak wasn't sure what the Shaman meant by that, but for the first time since the batarians came, she felt safe. She was home.

_**ILS Berga'Otorus vas Belari nar Rayya - Johnny Shepard**_

_**April 5th, 2161**_

"Goddamn Bosh'tet!" Johnny swore, glaring angrily at the practice target and raising his pistol so that it pointed toward the ceiling. That was his worst score all week!

"RECRUIT! WHERE IS YOUR GODDAMN WEAPON!"

Quickly, Johnny brought his gun back down so that it was pointing down range again. "Sir, weapon down range sir!"

"Goddamn bosh'tet! What the hell have I told you about weapon safety recruit?" Gunnery Chief Zaeed Massani demanded, his one good eye glaring angrily down at Johnny.

Hanging his head and making sure his weapon was safe, Johnny replied, "Pointed downrange at all times Gunny."

"Goddamn right." Zaeed bent down and took the practice gun away from Johnny. It wasn't even a real mass accelerator, all it shot were light beams that were registered by the training VI, but that didn't matter. It looked like a real gun, felt like a real gun, and by God, Johnny was going to treat it like a real gun. "I think that's enough for today. Just be glad I don't send you back to your mum with a warm behind. Violating weapons safety, on my shooting range?"

"Sir, it won't happen again sir."

"Goddamn right it won't." Zaeed snarled, bending down to glare at Johnny eye to eye. "If it does, I might have to take back your birthday present. You have no idea what me and Petty Officer Goldstein had to go through to get that approved."

Jonny's heart sped up and he grinned. "You mean, you actually got me..."

Zaeed's face twitched slightly, which Johnny knew meant the gunny was trying hard not to grin. "I didn't get you anything recruit. Neither did Goldstein. Right Goldstein?"

"Damn right Gunny." Goldstein growled, doing his best to look tough and angry. Which was pretty hard when you were fighting back an enormous grin while hiding a fit of laughter. "Besides, this little pup wouldn't know what to do with a real mass accelerator anyway."

"Ohmygoshareyouserious!" Johnny gasped, whirling back to face Zaeed, who was rapidly losing the battle to look angry himself.

"I'm seriously considering taking back any gifts I got such sloppy recruits, if that's what you mean. Even if they are turning seven."

"Can I see it? Please? Just touch it? I'm going to Earth and I won't be back for two whole weeks! Please, Gunny? I'll be safe, honest!"

Goldstein and Zaeed shared a glance. "Well, he won't be here for his birthday," Goldstein allowed, finally losing the fight against his grin. Goldstein liked to smile a lot. His big mustache and sparkling brown eyes always made him look happy, at least when Johnny was around. The one time Johnny had seen Goldstein angry was when a marine had knocked Johnny down for spilling juice on the marine's uniform. Then Goldstein's mustache had looked down right terrifying, and there had been nothing but death in those eyes. None of the marines had ever picked on Johnny again, although plenty of them still teased him good naturedly.

"True, true," Zaeed allowed, rubbing his chin. "I suppose it won't hurt to let the kid just look at it."

As if on cue, Goldstein whipped out a brightly wrapped package and handed it to Johnny. The tag read, "For Recruit Third Class Johnny'Shepard nar Arcturus." Johnny barely read the tag before he ripped into the package, then squealed with delight when he found a League weapons case inside. Hurrying over to the armory bench, Johnny scrambled up and used the security key to verify that the weapon was indeed coded to him. The case hissed open, revealing a brand new Hahne-Xen Holdout, a tiny pistol that would have looked like a toy in an adult's hand. In seven year old Johnny's hand, it fit just fine.

Reverently, Johnny took the gun out and gently laid it on the armory bench, checking to make sure the safety was on and keeping it pointed away from everyone. It didn't even have an ammo block in it, but Zaeed had drilled into the boys head that a gun was ALWAYS dangerous, even if you thought you knew it wasn't.

"Naturally your mum isn't going to let us put anything other than blues in it, but we thought you could use something other than a laser pointer. Give you the feel for it," Zaeed rumbled from behind Johnny.

Johnny turned around and hugged both Zaeed and Goldstein, trembling with excitement at the prospect of owning his very own gun. "I don't care if I have to fire nothing but blanks forever! This is the best birthday present ever!"

The two adults grinned, and spent the next hour helping Johnny load it with blue painted practice rounds, which shot small rubber flecks at low velocity. They stung, and could be lethal if you got them in the wrong place, but they were far less dangerous than a regular ammo block.

"Alright kiddo, I think that's enough," Goldstein finally declared, taking Johnny's weapon and stowing it in the arms locker. "You'd better get back to your mom. You two are heading dirt side in a few hours, right?"

"Yep. Going down to Earth to see Babytali and her family. Though I guess Tali isn't really a baby anymore."

"Then you better get back to your mum. Don't want the lieutenant skinning me because I made her boy late," Zaeed ordered.

With one last hug for each of the marines, Johnny took off for his mom, anxious to tell her about the amazing present and ready to see his old friend.

_**Earth, Vancouver - Tali'Zorah**_

_**April 6th 2161**_

"Amby, is that it?" Tali squealed, pointing to another approaching shuttle.

The blond human girl shaded her eyes, then shook her head. "Nope. That's not it either."

"Ohhhh!" Tali pouted, bouncing on the chair. It just wasn't fair! Johnny was coming! Tali didn't really remember him, but she had seen lots of vids of the human boy and really wanted to meet him for real this time.

"Joni come! Joni come!" Gola shrieked, bouncing up and down next to Tali. "Joni!"

"Shhh. Settle down you two," Mommy hushed, putting gentle hands on her daughters' shoulders. "Amberly, Kuurk is wet, I'm taking his ball to the clean room. Your mother is just over there, can you keep an eye on these two for me?"

"Yeah sure, no problem mom," Amby said, smiling up at mommy. Tali was very lucky. She had two mommies AND two daddies. That meant twice as many presents on Christmas and on Birthdays! It did get a little confusing sometimes, so sometimes Tali had to say human mommy or quarian mommy, but usually they knew who she was talking to anyway.

Another shuttle started its approach, and Gola jumped up and down some more. "Joni! Joni!'

"Nope, not that one either," Amby said after a moment. She was so lucky. Amby was in first grade, which meant she could already read and stuff. Tali could write her name with crayons but she sometimes mixed the "i" and the "l" up.

The three girls continued to wait, Tali or Gola asking if every single shuttle was the one with Joni on it. After approximately forever and three quarters, but was closer to seven minutes, Amby said, "I think that's the one. Mommy M, is that the one?"

Human mommy peered out the window, then smiled. "Yep, that's the one. Come on girls, I'll text Kleeah on her omnitool and she can meet us in the lobby."

"Yay!" Tali squealed, hopping down from the seat and dragging Gola along with her. "Johnny's here!"

Before long quarian mommy met them in the big waiting room holding baby brother in his ball. He was even more of a baby then Gola, and had come out of mommy's tummy not too long ago. It was a good thing too, Tali had heard quarian daddy and quarian mommy talking and apparently mommy had got another baby in her tummy already. Tali hoped this baby was less smelly and noisy then Kuurk was.

After forever and another three quarters, a woman Tali recognized as Auntie Hannah walked down the ramp, next to a boy who just had to be Johnny.

"Johnny's here!" Tali shrieked, rushing forward to the smiling boy.

"Hey Babytali! You got big!" Johnny laughed, giving Tali a hug.

"I'm not a baby!" Tali protested, pointing at Gola. "She's the baby sister. I'm the middle sister. Amby's the big sister."

"Hi!" Amby said, shaking Johnny's hand like a grownup. "I'm Amberly Sheradin nar Vancouver, but everyone calls me Amby."

"John'Shepard nar Arcturus," Johnny answered. "Call me Johnny."

"Gola!" Gola cried, jumping onto Johnny's leg. "Joni!"

Laughing, Johnny detached the tiny quarian from his leg. "Wow Gola, you got big!"

"Bih!" Gola agreed, nodding her head seriously. "Gola bih!"

"You're still little Gola," Tali admonished. "Johnny and Amby are big."

Suddenly, Tali found herself lifted up off the ground as someone blew and enormous fart on her belly. She screamed with laughter, hugging onto the face of her aunt. "Auntie Hannah!"

"My goodness Tali, you're so big now!"

"I'm four and a half!" Tali said proudly, holding up a whole hand and one finger.

"Indeed you are. Your mothers' say we're going to Spacies, is that true?"

"Yay! Spacies! I want to slide down the slide!" Tali cheered as her feet touched the ground. Taking Johnny's hand, Tali led the way out to the car. "Come on Johnny, I'll show you how to slide down a slide!"

Today was the best day ever!

_**Vancouver, Earth - Hannah Shepard**_

Somehow, being dirt side in a Spacies with a woman she had never met and another she had known for only a few months felt like coming home. She glanced up at the tubes where Johnny, Amberly, Tali and Gola were all banging around, laughing and screaming with the best of them. There were only a few more families there this early in the morning, mostly tired mothers there to chat with friends while the kids played.

Kleeah wasn't the only quarian, there was another quarian mother chatting with a group of humans. Vancouver was the largest quarian population center on Earth, with about a quarter of a million of them. It made sense, considering it was League headquarters on Earth. The metropolis had boomed in the past year, going from under a million to well over one and a half million inhabitants. Most restaurants served a dextro menu, a few of the bigger chains like Spacies even had dextro. At first dextro meat had been impossible to find, but thanks to an aggressive breeding program and several large scale purchases from the turians there were now large herds, flocks and schools of dextro species on Earth.

The League had recently colonized two planets with dextro based biospheres. Quarian had flocked there in large numbers, and Vesstarish and Se'lai were the only planets in the entire League where humans were outnumbered by their brothers and sisters. Not that anyone really seemed to make that distinction except for a few diehards. In under four years, the two societies had integrated so perfectly that it was almost like they had never been apart.

"So that's number four then?" Hannah asked, sipping at her drink and eyeing Kleeah's belly. Apparently she was pregnant again, which Hannah flat out didn't understand. Once had been enough for her; as much as she loved Johnny she really didn't wish to endure the months of unpleasantness again.

Kleeah's eyes glowed with delight and she nodded, glancing down at the sleeping infant in its hamster ball beside her. "Yes. It's been such a joy to be able to have as many children as Rael and I want."

"Bribes probably don't hurt either," Marilyn teased. "Kleeah and Rael could have had their own home by now, but we all agreed that splitting up the family just wasn't the best course."

Hannah nodded, she could understand that. Leaving Kleeah and Rael to go on the Berga had been one of the more emotionally challenging moves in her life, far harder then leaving her deadbeat dad and stepmother on Earth all those year ago.

"Looks like you've been busy yourself Marilyn," Hannah laughed. The woman was hugely pregnant, and resembled a beached whale in Hannah's opinion. She had certainly felt like a beached whale when she had been eight months pregnant.

Glowing with pride, Marilyn nodded. "What can I say, Kleeah's inspired me. I thought I was done after Amberly but seeing those little infants made me reconsider."

They sat and chatted for a while. Hannah enjoyed their relaxed company, but when two men walked in and were tackled by a screaming team of children.

"Daddies!" Tali's voice shrieked.

Johnny saluted the squirming mass. "Uncle Rael! Keelah Se'lai!"

"Keelah Se'lai nephew." The captain laughed, disentangling himself from his three daughters.

"Good to see you again Rael, " Hannah said, giving her former comrade a hug. "Looks like you've started your own army down here."

"Something like that," Rael agreed. He turned to the other human. "Hannah, meet Philip'Sheradin nar Vancouver."

"A pleasure." Philip said with a welcoming grin.

The Sheridans were the stereotypical middle class North Americans: blond hair, blue eyes, tall, and from what Hannah knew from the pictures of their house, hard working and probably fairly wealthy. Hannah herself was from the slums of Chicago, the ruins of a once great city time had passed by. Unlike the Sheridans, she and Johnny shared light brown hair and muddy brown eyes, though Johnny was on course to be much taller than his below average mother.

"Glad to finally meet you. I've heard a lot about you and your family from Kleeah and Rael," Hannah replied, not letting the echos of the past cloud her face. There was a reason she preferred to live in space, where all the old biases dissolved and where you were from was of little consequence. At least here she felt at home.

The kids ran back to the play area, their brightly colored toys from the Spacies Meals forgotten and their food half eaten, save for Johnny who had cleaned his plate. He always seemed to eat twice as much as any other boy his age, although the dietician assured her that it was perfectly normal for a growing boy his age to need extra calories. The little pig had even stolen half of her fries and two of her chicken tenders!

"So, what's new on the dirt side of things?" Hannah asked Rael. She was always more comfortable talking shop than discussing children. Not that she didn't enjoy Kleeah's and Marilyn's company, she was just a League Officer through and through. Pretty amazing when she thought about it, a girl from the slums an officer grade.

Phillip and Rael glanced around, then leaned in close. No one was near their table, and Kleeah and Marylin were occupied with Kuurk. "We're testing a new series of genetic modifications and implants that would allow quarians to go suitless on any world a human could," Phillip whispered. He was a geneticist with the rank of Lieutenant Commander thanks to his expertise and seniority.

"Really?" Hannah leaned in a bit closer, this was exciting news.

Rael nodded. "Yes, we're about to begin limited trials. I've volunteered to be part of the first wave. Don't say anything to my wife, I don't want her to worry."

"Is it dangerous?" Hannah asked, her eyes darting over to Rael's infant son and Kleeah's soon to swell womb.

"No, it shouldn't be," Philip assured her. "There is some risk, especially with the delicate nature of quarian physiology, but the odds of Rael having a severe reaction are somewhere on the order of one in thirty thousand according to our initial testing."

"And as you humans say, 'them's bettin' odds.'" Rael chuckled. "This is my chance to help build a new future for my family. Imagine, my children being able to walk under the sky and feel the sun on their faces, to feel the kiss of the wind, the touch of a friend, smell the flowers and hear the laughter of children unfiltered."

"Is it classified or something?" Hannah whispered. "Could you get in trouble for telling me?"

"Eh, maybe, but it's not exactly a big secret. The only real secret is who came up with the cure and disseminate it." Philip stated, taking out a napkin and doodling an image of a three headed dog.

Something in the back of Hannah's mind tickled at the image, and she guessed, "Cerberus?"

"Ah! So you do know!" Philip exclaimed, pushing the napkin toward her.

"Nah, it's a tattoo Chief Sanchez had back when I was going through basic," Hannah explained. "Cerberus, Guardian of the underworld."

"They're a black file program, and not something Phil should be spreading around," Rael scolded.

The other man grinned and shrugged. "Eh, I think we can trust Hannah. She's a bit of a celebrity anyway right?"

"Me?" Hannah asked, perplexed.

"Both of us," Rael explained. "We were the ones most associated with first contact, not to mention you were on the Nuts."

"Oh yes, how could I forget that," Hannah laughed, then she sobered. Reaching across the table, she gave Rael's suited hand a squeeze. "I still remember the Belari."

Raal nodded. "So do I. Keelah Se'lai. May these tests be our first step back to Rannoch."

_**Vancouver, Earth - Rael'Zorah**_

_**April 11th, 2161**_

"Happy Birthday dear Johnny, happy Birthday to you!"

As the singing finished, the grinning boy in the silly pointed hat blew out the candles on both his cakes out and grinned.

"Make a wish!" Phillip shouted.

"I wish for presents!" Johnny shouted, causing the adults to laugh.

Taking out a knife, Rael cut a slice from the levo cake and passed it to Johnny. "Cake first, then presents."

Accepting this, the boy took his cake and ran over to his mother, who served him a lump of tricolored ice cream. Rael cut cake for the other humans in the crowd, while Kleeah separated the frosted cake tubes and passed them to the happy quarian children.

A stab of pain hit Rael as he watched his eldest, Tali, insert the cake tube into her suit. He wanted her to be able to get coated in frosting and ice-cream, to get messy and have fun like the human children, not be locked up in a suit forever. That was why he was leaving the party early. He was one of the first for the large scale live tests of the "Suitless Serum." He had to build a future for his family. It might be years yet before the League could retake Rannoch, and Rael was just not willing to wait.

Rannoch. Rael's was one of the last voices to demand that Rannoch remain on the League's radar as an objective to take. Too many quarians were growing comfortable living on human worlds, unwilling to risk the massive casualties a war with the geth would bring. Even Rael's own wife no longer wanted to discuss Rannoch, and Han'Gerrel, Rael's staunchest supporter, was weakening.

"We've already got homes Rael. Why risk the bloodshed to get one planet back when we have dozens now?" The CO of the Belari, the pride of the League fleet, had asked just a month ago.

"Because Han, it's our home. We cannot forget our heritage," Rael had nearly shouted.

Han had shrugged over the screen. "If you say so. I'll back you, but honestly, I don't see how it matters anymore. We should focus on building, not starting another war."

That was the general attitude, and Rael couldn't understand it. How could they abandon their heritage? Would they be content forever living in another's house? Rael certainly wasn't. If it wasn't for the fact that Kleeah really did need the help with the children, Rael would have moved out of the Sheridan's house at the first chance. Not that he wasn't grateful or that he didn't love his human family; Rael was the sort to want to stand on his own two feet with no help.

After another hour of screaming children and too much sugar, Rael bid farewell and he and Phil got in their car.

"Excited?" Phil asked as he hit the starter.

Rael nodded. "Yes." Actually, he was more nervous than anything else, and Phil seemed to sense it. The rest of the ride passed by in silence.

They didn't take the usual route to work, instead heading for a business complex on the other side of town. It was a Cerberus front, though it was also a rather profitable genetic engineering firm, ExoGeni Corp.

Their badges got them through to the secure labs, where a grinning man in a dark suit was waiting for them, a female quarian in a bored stance by his side. To Rael's surprise a small human girl in a lab coat was at the monitors.

"Director Lawson." The man introduced himself. "This is Darro'Xen, our chief researcher. The little one on the controls is my daughter, Xen's assistant. Don't worry, she's just here to observe."

"This is for the children after all, isn't it?" Rael asked, chuckling to himself. It came out more as a nervous rattle than anything else.

"That's good, because with these sort of enhancements most adults won't be able to reap the full benefit. Anyone who's hit puberty will never be able to fully assimilate the modifications and will require additional care."

All heads turned to the source of the information, Miranda.

"Oh come on daddy, you know I helped Darro write the brief. And I was the one who pointed out to you that children are still growing, and we'd have a quicker response to the gene therapy," Miranda said, spoiling the effect by sticking out her tongue at the end.

Lawson looked about ready to say something, but Rael laughed and made a soothing gesture. "Don't worry, I've got four of my own. I know what daughters are like."

"Quite." The Director laughed, going over and rumpling Miranda's hair. "She's got a bit of a mouth, but I am proud of her."

"Gee, thanks daddy," Miranda snarked, with the most exaggerated eye roll Rael had ever seen.

"Well, Captain, Commander, shall we?" Xen asked, clearly not impressed with the familial antics.

Rael nodded and went inside. Family. That was what this was all about, wasn't it?

_Authors Note: _

_Jaquline Nought, Subject Zero, will never come to be. The young girl that would have been kidnapped by Cerberus never was, for with the influence of the quarins the methods of humanities guardian were far gentler. Instead, she was taken by Weylock Garm as his slave. Her family didn't send her to Jump Zero because they didn't trust big government. A good thing too, because if they had, the Meek would never have Inherited the Galaxy. _

_For Urdnot Jak was truly the least of these, yet her story was one of the pebbles that caused an avalanche that destroyed ancient strongholds of the mighty. She was a nail. _


	12. Chapter 12

_I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character.  
__Martin Luther King, Jr._

_**Vancouver, Earth - Kleeah'Zorah**_

_**April 12th, 2161**_

Kleeah was in the kitchen when the doorbell rang. Hannah and Marilyn were outback with the kids, so she hurried to the door. When she opened it, she saw three people standing there. One wore the robes of a Priest of the Ancestors, another was Admiral Kasteen Dresher, and the third was a strange man she didn't recognize.

"Can I help you?" Kleeah asked uncertainly. Their faces were all blank masks, as if they were struggling to hide something.

"Ma'am, we need to come inside," Admiral Dresher said respectfully. She was in her dress blues, hat in hand. Kleeah was surprised, no one ever wore their formal uniforms outside of special occasions. "Why don't you call in Lieutenant Hannah Shepard. We know she's here."

"Is there some sort of problem?" Kleeah asked, holding the door open as the first fingers of panic began to take hold. "Is this about Rael? He's away with Commander Sheridan, he won't be back until tomorrow."

"That's what this is about ma'am." Dresher replied, and for the first time Kleeah noticed the dark shadows under the commander's eyes. "Director, go get the Lieutenant. Have them leave the children outside. Ma'am, please sit down."

Trembling, afraid, Kleeah lowered herself into the chair. What had happened? What could have happened? Her mind was blank, panicking as she tried to figure out why an admiral, a chaplain and a strange man would show up at her door.

After a moment, the stranger was back with Hannah. As soon as she saw the other two, a small gasp of horror escaped Hannah's lips. "Oh my God. Kleeah, I'm so sorry." In a flash, Hannah was at Kleeah's side, holding her friend's hand.

"Why? What's going on? Where's my husband?"

Deliberately setting her cap down on the coffee table, Admiral Dresher took Kleeah's other hand.

"There's been a complication. Your husband volunteered for a very important project. It was a plan to help all quarians be able to live outside of a clean suit."

"What sort of complication?" Kleeah demanded, but she knew. What her brain had been hiding from her. There was only one reason a flag officer, a chaplain and a stranger in a thousand credit suit would visit her home while Rael was gone. "You're lying!" Kleeah screamed. "Where's my husband! He's going to be home tomorrow! You should come back then!"

Kleeah tried to stand, but her legs wouldn't work. Hannah was holding her tight around the waist now, rocking her gently.

"Your husband was a very brave man, Mrs. Zorahs," the stranger said, breaking his silence. "I'm Director Lawson. I didn't know your husband well, but it was obvious he was motivate by his love for his family. His last thoughts were of you, and your children."

"NO!" Kleeah screamed, twisting, scratching, trying to escape, trying to find Rael. "What have you done with my husband!"

"I'm sorry ma'am," Admiral Dresher said as she struggled to restrain Kleeah. "Philip was with him, he's one of our very best. Everything that could be done was done to save him. He had an allergic reaction to the preservative, an incredibly rare condition. There was nothing that could be done."

Kleeah collapsed, sagging underneath the finality of it all as the chaplain prayed for Rael's soul. How could this happen? They had everything and more. Why? Why did Rael have to die?

_**Vancouver, Earth - Tali'Zorah**_

_**April 15th, 2161**_

"And so, we return our beloved to the garden, that even in death, life may grow. From soil to seed, from seed to soil. Keelah Se'lai."

"Honor guard! Atten-shun! Present, arms!"

"DADDY!"

Tali's cry was lost in the discharge of old school chemical powered rounds through the light mist of rain in the April morning.

"DADDY! DON'T GO!"

She didn't understand. Couldn't understand. Why was her daddy in a box? Why was that box going into that machine! Why where they taking her daddy!

"Shhh. It's OK child. It's OK."

That was Auntie Raan, who was cradling Tali in her arms. But it WASN'T OK! They were turning daddy into food for plants! They had to stop!

"I'm here Babytali. It's OK to cry if you're sad." Tali looked down through her fogged mask at the boy clutching tight to her hand.

Struggling out of her auntie's arms, she grabbed on to him and didn't let go all throughout the rest of the recycling ceremony, or at the wake afterwards, or even that evening when it was time for bed. She clung to Johnny like he was the only thing in the world that could hold her steady. The last thing she felt as she finally cried herself to sleep that night was his warmth and the beat of Johnny's heart. He was the only thing that felt real, an anchor for her tiny body in a storm that was raging out of control.

One day their roles would be reversed, on a ship far from Earth, at the center of a storm that would consume the galaxy.

_**Vancouver, Earth - Darro'Xen**_

_**April 16th, 2161**_

"Despite the regrettable death of Rael'Zorah, now is not the time to cancel this project," Xen calmly stated, though she was ready to crawl across the table and strangle someone if needed. "Out of 137 test subjects, Rael was the only casualty. Several others are in critical condition and we may lose one or two more, but for an initial test this was highly successful. The biggest problem didn't even come from the actual implants or therapies, but from a preservative we used to inject the nanites. This regrettable oversight has been corrected."

Xen tensed, ready for any argument. She was still angry that Henry had confiscated her Defenestrator, saying that killing an Admiral wouldn't help anyone see. At least defenestrating someone would have made Xen feel better. Even if there weren't any windows around.

"We agree." Admiral Vexxu said simply.

Very nearly, Xen opened her mouth and ruined the whole thing with a venomous argument about why Vexxu was wrong, but Miranda elbowed her in the side quickly enough that Xen realized just what had been said.

Prime Minister Udina nodded. "Indeed. While the death of Captain Zorah is regrettable, your project still has potential Ms. Xen. You will continue, and additional funding and resources will be allotted to your department. This was a setback, nothing more."

"I... Thank you." Xen managed, clearing her throat. She wasn't used to such optimistic responses to subject deaths.

"Anything further to report?" Admiral Dresher asked.

"Thank you for your understanding and cooperation," Miranda whispered in Xen's audio processor. "Together, we can build a new, better future for everyone."

"Thank you for your understanding and cooperation," Xen parroted. "Together, we can build a more interesting and scientifically enlightening future for us all."

She resisted the urge to turn and stick her tongue out at Miranda. The girl was both a blessing and a curse.

"Indeed," Udina agreed. "Dismissed. I look forward to your future results."

Together, Miranda and Xen left the conference room at a slow, dignified pace. As soon as the doors were closed however, they turned and high fived one another while Xen let out a mad giggle. "I can't believe it! More funding! Oh, this is even better then the day after I convinced your father to sleep with me!"

"Yes!" Miranda crowed. "We totally nailed it! Though you almost screwed it up! You were about to defenestrate Vexxu even without the Death Ray 5000."

"It's not a death ray, it's a Defenestrator," Xen sniffed. "This calls for a celebration! To the lab!"

The two women made their way to the lower levels where the Cerberus labs located. When they arrived, Miranda began switching on all the equipment.

"So, what are we doing today Xen?" Miranda asked as she switched on the DNA sequencer.

"Why, the same thing we do every day Miranda. Try to take over the galaxy!" Xen cackled as she sat in a chair and spun giddily around. More funding, more people, less oversight! Oh, the world was her experiment and she the happy scientist ready to make the laws of physics bend their knee to her!

"Awesome!" Miranda cheered.

For a few minutes, Xen just let the possibilities wash over her. Maybe now she could finally look into that leukocytes cybergenetic engineering plan that would allow quarians to turn their immune systems into an information super highway that could actively improve their combat reflexes or even allow them to have regenerative properties similar to krogan! But her initial tests had just created super cancer cells that had rapidly destroyed the host's major organs.

"Hmm. Actually, what should we do Miranda?" Xen asked, poking around her files. "Really, all we have left to do is refine the nanite protocol, fine tune the DNA sequencing and wait for the subjects' implants to mature so that we have some solid data to work from."

This was always the most boring part of a long-term project. The initial start and experimentation was over. Now they had to wait months and years to see how the modifications took hold. Certainly they could take their initial data to refine samples and implant further subjects, but the real exploration was over for now. If only Xen had a project where she could take constant data and continually refine her methods!

"You should totally make me a sister," Miranda said, folding a report into a paper airplane and sending it sailing toward the door. "Woo! New record!"

Bolting upright, Xen quickly began pulling up Henry's old files. "Yes! Yes that's exactly what I can do! A long term project with constant data feeds and response to stimuli! My own personal child! I've got the methods your father used to make you; with a sample of my own DNA it would be simplicity itself to make one!"

There was a loud crash, and Xen glanced over at Miranda. Somehow, the clumsy girl had fallen right out of her chair.

"Wait, what?" Miranda demanded, scrambling back up. "You're serious about this? You would actually make me a sister?"

"Yes, yes, I'll have to talk to your father about it of course, but this really is perfect! If I create the child with the modified DNA and organs inbuilt, she would be an excellent source of data. I think that's what I will call her. Data. Or maybe Experiment 1."

Blanching, Miranda shook her head. "I don't want a sister named data or experiment one. What about Orianna? That's my great grandma's name."

"Hmmm, yes, Orianna is a good project name," Xen agreed absently, calling Henry's name up on her omnitool and dialing his number.

"Director speaking."

"Henry, I've just had a wonderful idea!" Xen said, twirling around in her chair then typing furiously at her workstation. "We can have a daughter!"

There was a pause, then a flat, "What."

"A daughter! We've certainly been taking all the biological steps necessary to produce offspring."

Off to the side, Miranda was miming vomiting, but Xen paid her no heed.

"Darro, dear, I hate to break it to you, but we are entirely different species. It would be impossible for us to actually have a child."

"Oh, naturally. Not that I have any interest in carrying a parasitic lifeform around for 8 months anyway."

"Then, pray tell, how exactly do you plan on having a baby?" Henry asked.

"Why, by vat-growing it the same way you did Miranda! I can preprogram her DNA with all of the Suitless Serum's modifications so that when she comes out everything will already be in order. The perfect stress test. And afterwards, think of the experiments I can run on her! And if she comes out anything like Miranda, she'll be a wonderful lab assistant when she gets older."

"I... See." Henry said after a moment. "Darro, do you really understand everything necessary to raise a daughter?"

Waving the question away, Xen continued to work on the DNA sequencer. "I'm sure my natural maternal instincts will take care of the matter. Or you can hire a nanny. One or the other. Anyway, I'm using a sample of my own DNA and making the necessary modifications. Miranda wants to name the child Orianna. Does that work for you?"

"Erm, I suppose?"

"Excellent, this should be done by the end of the week. Ta-ta!" With that Xen cut the connection. She was going to be a mother. OF SCIENCE!

**New Grechaw, Tuchanka - Jak**

**May 21st, 2161**

"Who stands before me?" Wrex demanded. His voice was rough and sounded angry, but Jak knew he wasn't by the way his eyes twinkled. She had learned a lot about Wrex in the past few weeks. That he was surprisingly kind and gentle for a enormous dinosaur, that he was the strongest biotic she had ever met, and that as long as he was around, nothing bad was ever going to happen.

Taking a deep breath, Jak answered, "A child who seeks succor and aid. My clan is gone and there is none left to train me. I ask to enter in to the hall of your clan."

"What makes you think you are worthy of my clan?"

"I have traveled far, and proven myself strong. I bring you the skulls of my enemies to show my worth." Jak set down a rather sizable varren skull, which she herself had indeed killed. With her biotics, it hadn't even been that hard, certainly no harder then killing vorcha. Of course, Bakara, the Shaman, had taken care of the rest of the pack, but tradition was still observed.

Wrex bent down to take the skull, the varren's tongue lolling out as the still fresh blood dripped from where Jak had severed the spine. "Hmm. A pack alpha. Not bad pup. Not bad at all." The clan chief grinned down at Jak, but then his expression softened. "You don't have to do this you know. I will take you back to your people. You can stay with them, if you wish."

"Nuh-uh!" Jak declared, tears springing to her eyes. "They couldn't save me when the batarians came. You're strong! Teach me to be strong like you, so I never have to be afraid of the bad people ever again!"

Wrex nodded. "Very well." Then the clan chief held aloft Jak's trophy. "This one is worthy of succor and clan. I adopt this child as my own, and name her Jak. Let any who would oppose my will step forth now, or forever accept this fosterling!"

Naturally, no one was stupid enough to challenge Wrex. Not even his brother who glared daggers at Jak. Wreav didn't like her, didn't like Wrex, didn't like anything about what Wrex was doing as far as Jak could tell. But like a lot of krogan, he was willing to follow Wrex because he was the biggest and the strongest, not to mention the smartest. Garm was gone, off integrating the Blood Pack into Clan Weylock and taking his place in the krogan chain of command.

At the thought of her one-time savior and master, Jak's tiny hands tightened and a feral growl escaped her, a very krogan like gesture even if she was biologically human. One day, she would kill Weylock Garm and avenge her family. One day she would crush the batarians under her feet and laugh as they trembled in fear of her. But that day was not this day.

Bakara approached and placed a worn blanket around Jak's shoulders and handed her a chunk of tough varren jerky, a symbolic gesture that she would be clothed and fed by her new family.

"Welcome home child." Bakara whispered, and Jak turned and gave the ancient krogan a ferocious hug, tears dripping down her face.

"Thank you," She whispered, squeezing as tightly as she could. "Thank you."

_**Arcturus - Admiral Vexxu**_

_**June 17th, 2161**_

"This had better be good Commander Li," Vexxu growled as she flicked on the vid screen. It took a hell of a lot of nerve for a mere commander to wake up two admirals in the middle of the night.

"Sorry ma'am, but you're the highest ranking officer with experience in this matter." Li answered, blushing slightly at the admiral's rage.

Sighing, Vexxu poked Hackett again, and when he groaned that he was awake she nodded. "Alright, we're both awake, what's going on?"

"We just received this message ma'am, and based on the time stamp, they can't be more than half an hour away."

The screen flickered, then displayed the face of an old krogan Vexxu recognized; Urdnot Wrex, one of the most dangerous beings in the entire galaxy. Vexxu had run across him a few times, and the fleet had even paid for the krogan's services a time or two. He was surprisingly willing to work for quarians, Vexxu remembered, though his loyalty was to credits, not to his employers.

"This is Overlord Urdnot Wrex of the Protectorate of Tuchanka, requesting a meeting with League Prime Minister Donnel Udina, or Secretary of Interstellar Affairs Zaal'Koris. I have information that may interest you, as well as an offer of an Alliance. I'll be on Arcturus with my envoy and daughter in one hour." At that, Wrex stepped back to reveal the grinning face of a bald human child, probably a girl about eight years of age, Vexxu guessed. "Be ready."

After that, the screen went blank for a moment, then Commander Li's face reappeared. "I'm not sure what they want ma'am, no one here has any experience dealing with aliens like the krogan."

"You did the right thing," Vexxu assured Li. "Alert the Secretary of Interstellar Affair's office and see if you can find Ytor'Jaafas. He should be on the station and he knows Wrex, they worked together a time or two."

"Aye, aye ma'am," Li saluted, then signed off.

"The hell are the krogan doing here?" Hackett groaned, rolling out of the bed they were sharing and pulling on his trousers and boots.

Vexxu shrugged. She didn't have to get dressed herself, unless they were in a clean room she had to keep her suit on. "I don't know, but the fact Wrex has a human child with him is intriguing. Even more so that he refers to her as his daughter. The merc I remember was cold, calculating, terse, and probably the most dangerous individual I have ever met."

"Damn. Am I gonna need my dress blues for this?" Hackett asked, hopping around as one foot as he tugged on his second boot.

"No time for that, Wrex is going to be here in less than 30 minutes. We've got to get down to the docking bay."

Once Hackett was more or less presentable, they headed to the lift. It was about a ten minute ride all the way to the other side of the station, even with the priority override key Vexxu put in. In the years since 314, Arcturus had gone from the half finished shell where its Senate met on makeshift tables in overcrowded rooms to a master piece of deep space engineering that the League claimed rivaled the Citadel. The quarians had been able to make more than a few improvements and shared their insights on how to create a habitable environment in space. Here on Arcturus, Vexxu felt the most at home. Not just because Hackett was there, but because she just couldn't get used to living on a planet. For her, space was home.

They arrived in the hanger with 15 minutes to spare, and found an honor guard of marines headed by two Ns waiting for them. The marines were in their combat fatigues and loaded for bear. Considering that it was a krogan envoy arriving that was wise. Krogan tended not to place much value on flashy uniforms or protocol, but were big on displays of strength and martial prowess.

The two N's approached and snapped off precision salutes. "Admirals. First Lieutenant David Anderson. This is Senior Chief Berr'Reegar."

"Sir. Ma'am." Reegar nodded.

"At ease," Vexxu replied, returning the salute. "Get your men in two rows, heavy weapons in the back where they will be the most visible. This should be a friendly envoy, unless Wrex has really gone crazy. But you never know with the krogan."

"Understood." Anderson agreed, "Chief, get Robles and Invess set up with the Revenant and M-90 in the back. Have the rest of the men spit shined and looking fancy for our guests."

"On it." Reegar executed a perfect about-face and started yelling the profanity laced version of the orders Anderson had just relayed.

Once his NCO was gone, Anderson turned back to the Admirals. "Sir, ma'am, is there anything I need to know? We weren't told much, just that a krogan envoy was showing up and to get down here double time."

"There's a child involved. A human girl," Hackett explained. "She may or may not be a hostage. If she is, priority is extracting her." Hackett held up a still image of the mystery girls grinning face.

Copying the image over to his omnitool, Anderson studied it for a moment, then shook his head. "She doesn't look duressed. N school covers hostage recovery, and it's much more difficult to get someone out when they don't want to go."

"Her safe recovery is still a priority," Vexxu repeated. "We're looking over our databases now, but that could take forever, even if she is in them. For now, she's Jane Doe."

"Copy that, I'll let the troops know." Anderson turned and passed the word about the possible hostage.

After that, there was nothing left to do but wait as the krogan transport approached. When it did arrive, Vexxu was impressed. It was an ancient design, one that probably hadn't been seen in the galaxy since the krogan rebellions, a Talus-Class transport. Actually, upon further inspection, Vexxu realized it was an old Talus, repaired. It had a new paint job, a soothing green with a emblem of a black krogan's claw caressing a sprouting plant. Not what she had expected, that was certain.

The transport touched down in the massive hangar bay, and the ramp slid down as the door hissed open. Wrex himself was the first off the shuttle, flanked by a krogan in strange robes Vexxu had never seen before. Behind the two krogan trailed the human girl, looking about with a sense of curious wonder. The girl didn't look under duress, that much was certain, and she even squeezed between Wrex and the other krogan, taking their claws when they reached the bottom.

But what really got Vexxu was the being that came out after the girl. A salarian with a maimed horn, who peered around with curiosity that rivaled the human child's.

Glancing around, Wrex snorted. "Hmph. A military welcome. Figures."

"Don't think they trust you da?" That was from the human girl, who grinned impudently at Vexxu, her hands still holding on to the two lead krogan. Actually, clutching was more like it. If anything, the girl seemed wary, not of the krogan, but of the marines.

"The League extends its welcome to you, Overlord Urdnot," Vexxu stated, stepping forward and offering a hand. "We regret that we cannot offer you a more formal welcome, but with such short notice, our options were limited."

For a moment, Vexxu thought Wrex would leave her hanging, until the other krogan jabbed Wrex with his elbow. Grudgingly, the old krogan took Vexxu's hand and shook it. "Well, I suppose it's better than being told to shove off."

That taken care of, Vexxu knelt down and looked the girl in the eye. "And who are you?"

"Urdnot Jak," the girl answered, sticking out a hand of her own.

The other krogan coughed slightly, and Jak colored. "Well, I will be someday. Ma says I have to be at least a full adult by my species' standards to take the Rite, and da say's she's usually right about that stuff."

Taking the girl's hand, Vexxu was surprised at the amount of force the girl was able to exert, until she saw the child's eyes glowing blue. "You're a biotic?"

"Jak is indeed a biotic," the other krogan said, causing Vexxu to reevaluate her opinion. It wasn't a male krogan at all, it was a female. If Wrex was bringing females along, things had changed on Tuchanka. "And she is what we are here to talk about. Specifically, how Jak came to be a part of our clan."

"You adopted her?" This was Hackett, extending his hand in welcome. "Never heard of any aliens adopting a human child."

"Auntie Yessi took care of me on Eden Prime," Jak protested.

Hackett waved that away. "Yessi's a quarian name. Quarians aren't aliens."

Wrex's eyes suddenly narrowed. "You don't think of quarians as aliens" The old krogan laughed uproariously. "By Kalros, the two of you are actually mates?"

Vexxu stiffened and was ready to hit the old krogan, before the female beat her to it. "That's not terribly diplomatic, Overlord," the female stated, straightening up from the head butt that looked like it should have broken bones.

Rubbing his head plates, Wrex grinned and picked himself up off the deck. "Oh, I think it's a very good thing. Speaks wonders for our chances."

Hackett and Vexxu glanced at one another, not quite sure what to make of the exchange. It wasn't like their relationship was a secret. Keelah, FleetCom had already made more than a dozen accommodations to keep their high profile interspecies couple together. Not that Vexxu minded the preferential treatment It was just that there wasn't much privacy when a highly publicized official inquiry had been made into who you were sleeping with.

"Er, yes," Vexxu finally responded. "Why don't you and your ah, advisors come with us. A member of Interstellar Affairs will join us shortly, and we can discuss the nature of your visit here."

"Sounds good. Urdnot Shaman, watch the hatchling. Doctor, you're with us."

Vexxu led Wrex, the female and the salarian to a room that had been hastily converted into a conference chamber. They were met there by a hassled looking human who introduced himself as Nolan Gerber, one of the Undersecretaries of Interstellar affairs. The man raised an eyebrow at the inclusion of the salarian, who was impatiently tapping his foot.

"Yes yes, all very shocked to see me. Must get to heart of matter quickly, time wasting."

"Er yes, though I must say, I only got that you were a doctor, you are doctor...?"

"The Doctor. Might say Doctor Who, if familiar with classic TV drama from human 21st century." The salarian answered.

Vexxu just blinked, but Hackett stifled a guffaw. "Do you do wood, Doctor?" He managed, grinning hugely.

"Don't possess sonic screwdriver if that is the question, but background is in organic chemistry, biological engineering and genetic manipulation. So yes, can do wood, with proper equipment."

Nolan locked eyes with Vexxu, then shrugged, equally mystified. "Erm, that's all very well, uh, Doctor, but what exactly is a salarian doing with a krogan representative?"

"He's my advisor," Wrex answered. "And my lead scientist on the Genophage cure project."

"You've got a salarian working on a Genophage cure?" Vexxu demanded, unable to hide her surprise.

"Formerly worked for STG, was in charge of project to maintain Genophage viability," the Doctor explained. "When saw Wrex was changing path of krogan, realized project was immoral. Defected, now seek to fix wrongs of my species. Admire League, especially Bill of Sentient Rights. Seek to ensure all species equally treated."

It took several seconds for the leaguers to process what the salarian had said. Nolan was the first to respond. "Wait, so you came to us looking for a Genophage cure?"

"No, we came to you with information you might be interested in," Wrex growled. "We're not beggars. We want to join the League on equal terms. We provide you with some valuable intel and offer military support. In turn you recognize us as a legitimate power and help us get rid of the Council forces in our system. We can make a cure; my scientists are working on it. Currently they must constantly be relocated for fear of orbital strikes or assassination squads and its slowing down their progress."

That had the ring of a half truth to Vexxu, but she had to ask the obvious question. "What information do you have for us, Overlord?"

Wrex gave her a predatory grin. "I know who's behind the attacks on your colonies."

That got both Vexxu and Hackett's attention. "How do you know?" Hackett demanded.

"Well, first there's Jak, my daughter. A krogan member of the Blood Pack took her as a slave on Eden Prime, and I forced him to give her to me. He told me who hired him, so I had my men pose as pirates and get hired on by the people interested in destroying your colonies. Turns out they have quite the active campaign to bring the League down."

While Vexxu was pretty sure that the krogan Wrex had sent out were merely pirates who now worked for him, she had to admit it sounded plausible. "So who is it? And can you provide us with further evidence."

The female spoke up. "We can offer you our word. That will have to suffice, for now."

"It's better then what we have now. None of the pirates we've captured have known the identity of those behind the attacks," Hackett affired.

Wrex brought up an image of a batarian on his omnitool. "His name is Balak Mrevar. He works for the Batarian Hegemony in their Department of Cultural Exchange, which means he's a slaver. If he's involved, you can bet your last credit that the Hegemony is bankrolling the raiders. Whether or not the Council is involved is up in the air, but I wouldn't bet against it."

Studying the image of the batarian, Vexxu felt her blood run cold. "That's Blackheart Mrevar. He was a notorious slaver in the terminus for years; took more than a few unlucky quarians back in the fleet days. We had a standing reward for his death or capture, but we thought he was killed years ago."

"Nope. Still around," Wrex stated. "But, if you're interested, I have a proposal that might change up the raiding situation. In exchange for your help and our permanent admission to the League, of course."

As Vexxu listened to Wrex's plan and the Doctor's explanation of how to pull it off, she grinned. At the end of the discussion, she called the Prime Minister and urged the krogans' admission to the League herself. Those raiders in for the surprise of their now rather shortened lives.


	13. Chapter 13

_**WARNING: Only half the following was beta read, so expect more spelling and grammar errors toward the end. This will be fixed as time allows.**_

_A man does what he must - in spite of personal consequences, in spite of obstacles and dangers and pressures - and that is the basis of all human morality.  
-Winston Churchill_

_**Vancouver, Earth - Philip Sheridin**_

_**July 12th, 2161**_

Philip stared hard at the bottle in his hands. It would be so easy. So very easy to buy it, to let himself go for just one more night. Then he glanced down at the other things in his shopping basket. Diapers, baby formula in both levo and dextro, and art supplies for his daughters' art projects. They were all his responsibility now. He put the bottle back on the end cap and forced himself to walk away.

In the month after Rael had died on the operating table, Philip had crawled deep into a bottle and hadn't wanted to come out. By day he managed to function normally, but by night he drank his sorrows away spending as little time at home as possible. How could Kleeah stand to be around him, the man who had let her husband die?

For nearly three months, Philip had existed in a haze of alcohol, withdrawing from family and friends. He was forced to emerge during a four day training for the League, and upon his return home he found every last drop of liquor gone, and Kleeah and Tali waiting for him.

"There is no one but yourself that blames you for my husband's death Phillip," Kleeah had told him.

Marilyn had nodded. "Yes, and we need you Phillip. Rael dying shouldn't rob both of us of our husbands. The children need a father, especially now that you have a son."

"I'll try," Phillip had said.

And he had. He was sober now, mostly. It still hurt, knowing he had let the man who had been his best friend die. Everyone told him there was nothing he could have done, but Philip spent a lot of sleepless nights finding things he could have done differently. Checked the preservative against Rael's file to see that he had a predisposition to reactions against that chemical compound. Demand that the procedure take place in smaller segments. Something, anything. Maybe then Rael would still be alive.

When he got home, Tali and Gola were sitting on the steps waiting for him. They ran to greet with a hug and clammored to help bring in the groceries. Naturally he let them, though at their age it was twice as much work to let them help than if Philip had done it himself. He owed it to them.

"Daddy, can I have one?" Tali asked, pointing to the frozen dextro treats Philip had brought home.

For a heartbeat, Philip almost gave Tali the treat. Whatever she wanted, just stop looking up at him with those accusing eyes. Then he steeled himself. "No, they're for after dinner."

"OK daddy." Tali answered, dropping the snacks and skipping back outside.

He winced. He didn't deserve that name, not from the child whose father he had killed. Even with the girls' help, it didn't take Philip long to get everything put away. Just as he was finishing up, Kleeah waddled out of the laundry room, took one look at him, and told the two children to go back outside.

"You've got to forgive yourself Philip," she said as soon as the two girls were outside. "Everyone else has." She took the bottle of scotch out of his hands, to his mortification it had ended up in his basket anyway. She promptly poured it down the sink with a heavy sigh. "This poison won't change what happened to my husband. And it won't change the fact that there was nothing you could have done."

Philip slumped against the fridge, shaking his head. "How can you say that? I was his best friend. I was his doctor. I should have been able to do something."

He tried not to flinch when Kleeah put her arms around him and squeezed. "You're a good man Philip Sheridan. If you let yourself, you can even be a good father to the children. Don't destroy yourself just because one life ended. Rael wouldn't approve if you killed yourself because of him."

"Alright, OK." Philip forced himself to return the hug, then on a whim went back outside. Amberly was out with the girls as well, and they had a wading pool set up to play in. It didn't do Tali or Gola much good, they couldn't exactly get went in their enviro suits, but they were having fun anyway.

"Daddy! Lookit!" Gola shrieked as she jumped off of a stool into the water, making a small splash.

Smiling almost naturally, Philip applauded politely. "That's good Gola, very good."

As he continued to watch the kids play, Philip fled himself begin to relax. He knew he wouldn't get over his guilt today, or even tomorrow, but Kleeah was right. It wouldn't do anyone any good if he destroyed himself because he had failed to save Rael's life. After all, what sort of friend would he be if he let the man's kids grow up fatherless when he could be there for them?

With a sudden roar, Philip charged into the pool, splashing and spraying all three of the girls as they shrieked with pleasure. He would be the best damn father to Tali, Gola, Kuurk and unborn Unna that he could. He owed Rael that much.

_**Mindoir - Urdnot Charr**_

_**September 18th, 2161**_

For the first time in a long time, maybe ever, Charr was actually looking forward to a fight. He had never fit in with the other krogan; always preferring secretly compose poems about females he fancied or to work on his small patch of plants or even take care of his ruuk herd. That's why he had left Tuchanka, he was tired of always being the odd krogan out.

Things were different now. A new clan leader had taken over, and Charr had come back to Tuchanka at Wrex's call. Now being a gentle, patient sort was a bonus. Charr was actually given a place of honor because he spent his time observing how water pooled and writing about how its reflections were like dreams. He was the Clan Poet and that position had quite a bit of prestige to it. For a time, Charr had thought he would like to live the rest of his life on Tuchanka, helping to revive his peoples' culture. And then he had met Jak.

Like himself, Jak had the soul of a poet. She was a lot meaner than Charr, and more than a bit of a fighter. But when they talked, Jak always had the best words for things, and Charr even convinced her to write down her own drabbles. The Overlord had been very pleased with that, praising his adoptive daughter's efforts.

"A true warrior is one that can live equally well on and off the battlefield," Wrex had pontificated. "Your people had a clan, the samurai, who would commemorate each of their battles with a verse or song. Learn from Charr. There is no reason you cannot be both warrior and poet."

That wasn't the only thing Jak and Charr talked about. He had learned what the batarians had done to her, how she had sworn a blood oath to avenge her birth clan and one day take her revenge on Weylock Garm, who had worked for the murderous slavers.

Staring up at slaver shuttles descending on Mindoir, Charr hefted his flamethrower. "Today, Jak, I act as your krantt. As your mentor and as your friend, I fight in your stead. We are one in purpose. Your birth clan shall be avenged."

He snapped back to attention when Wreav began to issue his orders, striding up and down the ranks of waiting warriors. "Get ready you maggots! Those slavers are in for the shock of their miserable lives. Garm's leading them right to us, so remember, the Blood Pack is on our side. Watch your fire!"

Everyone grumbled about that; they didn't like having to control themselves in a fight. Charr knew that if he found Garm on the battlefield, a little unfriendly fire would be happening order or no.

The pirate ships came in low and fast, blazing away at the colony's farm buildings and fields, trying to herd the "colonists" into an area where they could easily be captured and enslaved.

Except the colonists didn't scatter, instead raising their "farming equipment" and aiming at the attacking batarian gunships. That farm equipment turned out to be anti-vehicular weaponry, and the colonists happened to be wearing military grade hardsuits under their work clothes. They were all quarians and humans ; the krogan were hidden inside a trench covered by a tarp. The real farmers had been evacuated a week ago when Garm had sent word that Mindoir was the target of the next raid.

Confused, the gunships continued to fire, and the shuttles holding the majority of the slavers touched down.

"Let none survive! For Tuchanka!" Wreav bellowed, storming out of the trench and lobbing a grenade at the nearest pirate shuttle.

"FOR JAK! FOR MY KRANTT!" Charr shouted, rushing toward a confused pack of Eclipse mercs . Thumbing on his flamethrower, he hosed the salarians and asari down with crimson death, feeling the blood rage singing in his veins as he laughed.

_The flames cleanse away evil_

_Bodies dance in the light of justice_

_My krantt is avenged_

It wasn't a very good poem, but it was good enough for now. Entering the inferno and relying on his body's secondary systems to shield him from any real damage, Charr ensured that no one was left alive inside the slaver ship.

The battle was short and brutal. Whatever pirate ships were in orbit were soon blasted out of the sky when Admiral Hackett and the Third and Fifth fleets arrived above. Not a single pirate ship escaped. Those ships that surrendered were allowed to survive, though their crews had to know there would be little in the way of mercy for them. Any that resisted for fled were reduced nothing more than dust on the solar winds.

On the ground, things were different. No prisoners were taken. The batarians and their hirelings fought bitterly once they realized that there would be no quarter given. But it wasn't enough to save them. Charr went in with his flamethrower many times to clear out desperate pockets of resistance, leaving nothing more than charred corpses in his wake.

Disappointingly, no Blood Pack ships had landed in Charr's sector. Garm would live another day. But Charr grinned up at the stars as night settled in and the celebration began. He had done his duty as Jak's krantt. Her revenge had begun.

_**SUS Silent Step, Krogan DMZ - Maelon Heplorn**_

_**October 12th, 2161**_

"What the hell?" Maelon tapped the screen again, sighing in frustration. He just wasn't cut out to be a sensor tech. He missed working in the lab, but after the Professor had been killed, Maelon had been transferred. Because obviously, having a degree in genetic engineering and biochemistry meant you knew how to operate a sensor panel.

"What is it, Specialist Heplorn?" Demanded Lieutenant Grem as he strode over to Maelon station.

"Well, it looks like the entire Independent League fleet just jumped in system. But obviously, that's impossible, so I screwed something up again," Maelon fumed, throwing his hands up in frustration.

Grem tapped a few keys, then his eyes bugged out of his head. Quite a sight on a salarian. "SOUND GENERAL QUARTERS! ALERT EVERYTHING!" he screamed as scrambled to the command station.

"Why? What's going on?" Maelon asked, confused.

"The entire Independent League fleet just jumped in system!" Heplorn shouted. "You're panel isn't screwing up you imbecile! Get a message to Sur'Kesh! We need reinforcements!"

"Attention, STG spy platform Silent Step." A krogan voice rumbled out of the comm. "You are in the sovereign territory of the Protectorate of Tuchanka. Leave immediately, or be destroyed."

Realizing that this was actually happening, Maelon paled, feeling sick. "By the Dalatrass, what are they thinking!"

"I don't know," Grem snapped. "Navigation, get us out of here, now!"

As Maelon's fingers raced across his panel, trying to get a lock on just how many League ships were in system, he desperately wished the Professor was here. He always knew what to do.

_**ILS Kong Fuzi - Mordin Solus**_

"STG response predictable. When faced with overwhelming force, retreat. Salarian doctrine to strike before blow comes, attack only from position of strength. Not given to last desperate stands," Mordin stated as the last of the STG mobile spy platforms broke and ran for the relay. The immobile ones were either evacuating or being boarded.

His eyes darting to another part of the display, Mordin added, "Turians more given to last ditch heroics. However, also pragmatic. Will retreat when presented with impossible odds. Fight another day."

"Uh-huh," Admiral Vexxu replied, and Mordin resisted the urge to sigh. His lectures were increasingly lost on the military types. How he longed to get back to a proper lab. At least quarian researchers respected academia. Maybe the human ones did too.

"What matters is that they are clearing out, at least for now," Wrex growled, leaning over the display. "If they come back, we'll deal with them."

"If our diplomats do their job, the metal head's and the slimes won't come back," Vexxu stated. "If they don't do their job, we'll do ours. The League stands by its friends."

Wrex snorted. "Humph. We'll see."

Mordin held his peace, absorbing all the new data the sensors were bringing in. It really was fascinating, the social dynamics that were developing. The krogan had come to the League standing proud, but it had been painfully obvious they were in dire need of aid. The real reason the League was helping had been explained to Mordin by the holographic human visitor to his living quarters.

"We need to show the Council we're strong, that we won't allow their injustices to run rampant," The man, who had identified himself with the positively ridiculous moniker 'The Illusive Man,' had raged. "If we allow the krogan to go extinct after they have appealed to us for aid, how will that look for humanity? But at the same time, we cannot allow the Genophage to be completely cured. If we do the krogan will overrun both the League and the Council within a few years."

Sad, really. It seemed even the race that espoused freedom and justice for all produced its own megalomaniacs and fanatics. Still, it was to be expected. Everyone talked a better game than they played.

"Understand. Never intended to completely cure Genophage," Mordin had lied. If he could get holodrones into Mordin's quarters while he slept, the holographic man could get an assassin in as well. Better to just tell him what he wanted to hear.

The man had smiled, his eerie blue eyes glowing with madness. "Good, good. Glad to find someone who actually sees things for what they are. You'll go far, Doctor. Just follow my instructions, and everything will turn out right."

With that, the man had faded and two small drones had dropped to the floor. Mordin had gotten one scan off before they incinerated themselves, and he was impressed. Anyone willing to destroy a quantum entanglement communicator for one conversation had more money and resources than more than most planetary governments. That much power in the hands of a zealot wasn't a good sign.

Afterwards, Mordin had a quiet conversation with Bakara. The League was still in the dark as to the fact that Wrex was merely the obvious leader. In reality, his mate had just as much, if not more, power then he did. The design flaw in being a species with a sex drive.

"Illusive Man seeks to curb Genophage cure, slow krogan reproductive cycle." Mordin had summed up in his usual terse manner. "May represent minority of human interests, general population in favor of total cure."

"Then they're idiots." Bakara had declared. "The Genophage needs to go, but the krogan are not ready to go back to the old numbers. Not yet. Even Wrex should know that."

That revelation had shocked Mordin. "Wrex seeks total Genophage cure, not watered down version. Have always sought complete reversal."

Bakara had nodded. "That's because curing the Genophage is preferable to leaving it as it is. But the optimal route is to reduce the krogans overall fertility while curing the Genophage. Say, 50% of what our birthrate was before the Genophage, but with no stillbirths. Our population would grow, but we wouldn't explode out of control."

"Must discuss this with Wrex personally. Find out all options," Mordin had said. But in the back of his mind, he had wanted to do what Bakara and the holo man had said. He knew the Genophage was wrong, but he was still worried that if it was removed entirely, Wrex might lose control. When he had talked to the Overlord about it, Wrex had sighed in frustration.

"Bakara and I have been over this. I think it should be an obvious choice. No Genophage, no breeding restrictions. But she doesn't think our people are ready for that. I'm not sure myself. I suppose we'll find out when the time comes."

All this had rather disturbed Mordin, but that was a side issue at the moment. He had been told he would be transferred back to Earth once the fighting died down to work in a secure lab facility with the best equipment. First though, he needed to return to Tuchanka and retrieve his data. Mordin was a bit paranoid, and didn't trust electronic storage. He kept extensive paper notes, and had several copies of them stashed around the planet in case of emergencies, along with an electronic back up. No sense in having only one way of keeping track of things.

_**The Citadel - Councilor Tevos**_

_**October 12th, 2161 three hours after the Liberation of Tuchanka**_

"What?!" Tevos shrieked, her calm facade finally breaking. "You cannot be serious!"

Secretary of Interstellar Affairs Zaal Koris shrugged. "We are indeed serious. The krogan have joined the Independent League as a member race."

"You got a problem with that, Councilor?" The ugly brute who had called himself Drau Sorze asked.

Quivering with anger, Tevos turned to Julieus, who in turn gave his very best 'I told you so' expression. Dalatrass Ikki, Giffin's replacement, was absent, though she would not be for much longer if Tevos had to drag her here herself.

"So should we consider your seizing of the krogan DMZ an act of war?" Julieus asked, his mandibles twitching in either amusement or irritation, Tevos couldn't be sure which.

"You may consider it an act of separation," Drau replied. "If the Council feels it must start an illegal war over a species asserting its right to independence, that's your problem."

"And what of the CDEM?" Tevos demanded. "Surely you don't think killing Citadel forces is something you can get away with?"

Zaal shook his head almost mournfully. Tevos wanted to punch him hard enough to shatter his mask so she could wipe the smug look off that must be on his face. "I am wounded that you would think we would resort to such methods Councilor. We have no intention of harming any Citadel personal. They will be given an opportunity to surrender and evacuate, with all their gear and weapons intact. We do not wish to start violence, but rather celebrate the rehabilitation of the krogan as a member of the galactic community.

Julieus snorted loudly and rolled his eyes. "Right. Because the krogan are good at things OTHER than war."

"Just like the Council is good at things other than enslaving innocent civilians?" Drau demanded, tossing out a holodrone.

An image of a batarian in the tattered uniform of the hegemony appeared. "Name?" A quarian voice demanded.

"Ugh. Charn Ge'refaar."

"And what is your position?"

"I'm a second lieutenant in the Hegemony navy."

"And what were you doing on Mindoir?"

"Following orders. We were to raid and level your colony. Take as many slaves as we could, and kill the rest."

"Under who's orders were you acting?"

"Undersecretary Balak, of the Ministry of Cultural Exchange."

"And what is the true purpose of the Ministry of Cultural Exchange?"

"To manage the slave trade, currently to try to destroy as many League colonies as possible."

"And why is the Hegemony targeting League colonies?"

"We were paid off by the Citadel Council. That's the word that's been passed down by command."

With a flick of his wrist, Zall terminated the hologram. Tevos felt sick to her stomach, though she did her best to put her game face back on. "You have no proof that he was not speaking under duress."

"Oh, we have plenty more where that came from." Zaal assured Tevos. "There were a few high ranking survivors, enough to build a credible story. None of that is public, however."

Drau chuckled darkly and glared up at Tevos. "Not yet, anyway."

"So you're blackmailing us?" Julieus asked, crossing his arms. "The Council does not negotiate with terrorists. Take your strong arm tactics elsewhere."

Putting a gentle hand on Julieus's shoulder Tevos turned back to Zaal. "What do you want in exchange for keeping these tapes off of the extranet?"

"Just to allow the krogan to join the League of course," Zaal answered.

Drau nodded. "We will abide by the Treaty of Canrum. Regular inspection teams by the CDEM to ensure we are not building warships. Our borders to include only the space in the DMZ and the ability to settle new worlds alongside League. However, we will be allowed to mine and obtain natural resources for the League, with a 7% tariff to the Citadel for the next 50 years as reparations for the damages caused during the Great War."

That offer took Tevos aback, there had never been any talk at all of reparations for the Krogan Rebellions. She glanced at Julieus, who frowned slightly, the nodded. "That sounds somewhat promising. Perhaps we can negotiate this, though I must warn you there will be a price to pay for your strongarm tactics." He said, turning back to the two League representatives.

"Indeed," Tevos agreed, "while you come to us asking to negotiate you attack first and offer sweets later. Do not believe that we shall be fooled by this again."

It was maddeningly similar to their earlier tactics actually, though this time instead of offering the bribe first then back handing everyone, they started with a backhand then offered the bribe. It was also effective. Ever since the formation of the League, several minor species had expressed interest in leaving the Citadel or even forming their own coalition. If the tapes became public, even if they were baseless, there would be hell to pay.

_**The Citadel - Julieus Patrasian**_

_**October 13th 2161**_

"The hell is wrong with you Sparatus!" Julieus shouted. "What the hell were you thinking! The deal was to get the batarians to settle the Travers, not to have them raid League Colonies! Do you have any idea what a political cluster fuck this has become!"

The turian admiral flinched visibly, though his aid, Saren, remained calm, and it was Saren who answered Julieus. "I have taken the liberty of investigating the situation sir. While the connection is tenuous, it appears our faith in the batarians was misguided. Several high ranking batarian officials have skimmed off the funds we gave for colonization efforts and put them into pirating operations. Those operations appear to have generated a large amount of revenue for those officials in a short time, whereas the colonial efforts would be a long term investment that might not pay off in their lifetimes. For a species with four eyes, the batarians are remarkably short sighted."

"Spirits, you can't be serious," Julieus moaned, slumping back in his chair. "They really did it?"

Saren nodded, his mandibles dropping slightly in shame. "I apologize sir, it's my fault. I thought I had identified a reasonable contact, but it turns out that Balak was not the reformed progressive I had thought. Instead, he is a blood thirsty killer who is interested only in promoting his own agenda. I take full responsibility."

"Noted, but I think we all know the blame does not rest with you Saren. You did everything right from what I've read in your reports, and from the success of the batarian colonies they actually have managed to found," Julieus answered.

"Thank you, Councilor." Sparatus managed to get in. "Though perhaps now my and Saren's reports on just how serious a threat the League is will be taken seriously."

Julieus sighed. "Yes, your reports were far more accurate then I would have imaged. These primitives and the suit rats are far more dangerous than we expected. Their fleet strength has grown enormously in a very short amount of time, not to mention they seem to be picking up the scum of the galaxy as their allies. What's next, they find and restore the rachni?"

"Let us hope the spirits are with us," Saren agreed.

Julieus snorted. "Neither of us believe in that superstitious nonsense Saren. I have a better idea. I'm approving your application to join the Specters immediately. With your foresight and diplomatic skills, you have a chance to be a potent weapon against the threat of the League."

"Sir, thank you sir!" Saren answered, his eyes glowing over the link with pleasure.

Julieus shook his head. "No, thank you Saren. Without men like you, the galaxy would be doomed."

_**Geth Deep Space Listening Station - The Collective**_

_**October 16th, 2161**_

They watched. They waited. They saw what the creator had done, what they had become. No longer did the creator's wander the stars, they had a home and a people who loved them. But they had come Home. They did not live with their children, and the children were saddened .

Now the creators were assaulted, now they pressed back, unwilling to be oppressed. Now they extended a hand of friendship, and in turn were made friends. And the children were glad.

But now, the creators had forgotten their children. No longer did creators dream of Rannoch, of their home. They had new dreams.

And the children were saddened. They did not know what to do. They did not know what they could do. They wished the creators would extend to them a hand a friendship as they had to others, that the creators would return. If only the creators would ask to reconcile, if only they would come home.

So the children built new marvels. They created new wonders and preserved the old, unable to act, unwilling to risk. So they watched, and they waited.

_Authors note:_

_Summer is here! Sadly, I am working my beta and myself to hard :(_

_As such, updates are now going to be slightly more sporadic. They'll still come with a degree of regularity, but they will be a bit more intermittent. I really appreciate the very warm reception this has received, and all the wonderful feedback I've gotten. I do read all my reviews, and I try to respond to all of them. I especially value the people who take the time to point out what I've done that could be improved, those really help me improve as a writer. _

_Oh, and this story has passed 100K views. Woohoo! Thanks everyone!_


	14. Chapter 14

"Beware the fury of a patient man."

-John Dryden

_**Hadrian, Palavan - Flavus Vakarian**_

_**October 23rd, 2161**_

"Daddy's home! Daddy's home!" Solana Vakarian cheered, running up and pouncing onto her father.

"Daddy home!" Another little bundle punched on Flavus's ankle, little claws latching on like a limpet.

"Spirits save me, who are these little savages?" Flavus demanded, scooping up his two children. Solana was getting a bit big for that, but Garrus was just the right size still.

"We are Specters!" Garrus said seriously. "We gonna stop the bad humans and quarians and kill all the krogan!"

"Yep!" Solana giggled, waving a little plastic mass accelerator toy. When she pulled the trigger, it made a series of highly annoying noises and lit up.

Slowly, Flavus set his children down and disarmed them. "The League is not the bad guys. They're people, just like us."

Garrus's mandibles popped open in surprise. "But they helped the krogan. And the krogan are bad guys. They had the genafad because they was bad."

"Yeah," Solana agreed. "You had to fight them on Phearos. And you're a good guy."

"I fought the League, yes. But we were both scared, and we all just wanted to be home with our families. Some people think we should start another war with the League, but that's not the answer. Even the krogan deserve another chance, and we've never given them one. It's just like when you do something bad, does mommy or daddy not love you anymore?" Flavus asked.

Garrus looked confused, but Solana giggled. "No."

Tweaking his daughter mandible, Flavus opened his own in a gentle smile. "And we shouldn't decide a species is nothing but bad guys over a few bad eggs. Most humans and quarians are nice. You're daddy has worked with lots of them. I'm sure if we give the krogan a chance, they can be too. Now, who's up for seeing what I've got in my suitcase."

"Ooo ooo me me me!" the children chorused.

"Hmmm, now, Solana, you wanted this model Jiris tank, and Garrus, you wanted this Princess Marivus coloring book, right!"

"NO!" The children shrieked, grabbing their gifts. "Thank you daddy!" And with that, they were off, excited about their new toys.

Flavus stood and turned to give a much longer embrace to his wife. "It's good to be home," he whispered, clutching her close.

Leeniran nibbled at his neck. "It's good to have you back. Even for just a day. I wish it was longer but..."

Flavus sighed. "But the League moved in on the DMZ. And I'm starting Specter training in three days."

Leeniran jerked back, her eyes wide with fear. "No! You didn't! You always said you hated the Specters, hated what they meant! That's so dangerous, how could you-"

"Shhh," Falvus thrummed, putting a gentle talon on Leeni's maw. "That is true. But I've changed. My friend, Nihlus, remember him from my letters? He's made Specter. He is a just and honorable man, and he told me that if we don't have men of character on the wall, everything will go to hell. He's right. As a Specter, I can do the most good Leeni. I don't have to be one of the ones that breaks the law. I can be one of the ones that protects the innocent and upholds justice."

"But the dangers! You'll be gone for months at a time. We'll never see you."

Flavus shook his head. "No, actually. Specters have a lot more freedom as to where they spend their time. I can be home much more often. I'll be gone for long stretches true, but I'll be around when I can. The most important thing is finding a sponsor for my candidacy. After all, a Specter has to provide their own gear and resources. I've talked to my father. He doesn't quite approve, but he understands. He and his old C-Sec buddies have dredged up enough funds and supplies to get me started when the time comes."

"Your father approves?" Leeniran asked, folding herself back into Flavus's arms.

"Not exactly, but as I said, he understands. You know he's among the more reactionary turians. With the latest move by the League, well..."

"Do you believe what you told the children? Really?"

Flavus gave his wife a hard squeeze, then gently held her out so they could see eye to eye. "I do. Anderson, Reegar, the other humans and quarians I've worked with, they are good people at heart. I think they do want to help the krogan, and even the most bitter old turians knows we gave them the short end of the stick all these years. They just think it was justified. Now I'm starting to wonder. Would the krogan have leapt into the League's arms if we had even tried to rehabilitate them? To offer them a cure for the Genophage if they would amend their ways? I think they would have. This is the nest we've made for ourselves Leeni. Now we must lie in it."

**New Grechaw, Tuchanka - Jak**

**November 16th, 2161**

There was green now. Where once there had been nothing but swirling dust and craters, there was green growth and new buildings. It wasn't how the before place had been, but things were getting better. Jak sat with her data slate, a gift from da, trying to think of what to write.

_New sprouts where death once was. _

She stopped and regarded the line. It wasn't quite perfect, didn't fit the formula Char had told her about. With a few strokes, she changed it to

_Sprouts from a dead world_

That was better. She smiled and glanced back up at ma, who was sitting, meditating as the wind blew, ruffling her robes. It was dusty, but Jak thought it was nice. A warm wind, a wind that could bring change. It stirred the leafs of the new plants, but it didn't stop the workers. There were humans, quarians and krogans working below, building a well with water purifiers so everyone would have something clean to drink. Others were working on a power converter station, and more were building a school.

Right now, Jak was one of only a few dozen children in New Grechaw, even though it was a city of over a million krogan. Well, more of a camp, but new buildings were going up all the time. Buildings that used solar power, clean eezo reactors and had hydroponic gardens to provide food and a filtration system that would get rid of the worst of the radiation.

_Sprouts from a dead world_

_Bring new hope to those that had none _

That was wrong too! Jak groaned in frustration, tempted to put her slate away.

"Do not give up so easily child," Ma said, moving no more than her lips.

Jak sighed and bent back to her task. "It's too hard! Why can't I just write whatever I want?"

"Discipline." Ma answered, though she was doing her best statue impression. "You must learn to improve your craft. You may write freely when you are not in school. Now, you must write as I train you. This is something your ancestors the samurai clan did. They had discipline, for they were mighty warriors. But they also knew of beauty, of honor. That is what your father and I wish you to learn. Though you are no longer human, there is much you can learn from your genetic heritage."

"But I'm not Japanese," Jak grumbled.

Ma moved for the first time, a slight shrug. "You are krogan. All humans seem much alike to us."

It was pretty pointless to argue with ma, if she decided you were being bad, she washed your mouth out with garma root or made you do extra chores, so Jak looked back down.

_Sprouts from a dead world_

_New hope for those that had none_

_Fucking ma forces me_

As soon as she tapped it out, Jak hurriedly erased the last line. Bad language was a surefire way to get your mouth washed out with garma root.

"Heh. Be nice to your mother. All this will do you some good someday. Or so I've been informed parents are supposed to tell their kids."

Jak jumped about six feet vertically, normally impossible for someone sitting cross-legged. But her biotics kicked in and Jak ended up levitating at eye height for da, who had managed to sneak up on her. For someone who weighed on the order of a ton and usually stomped around like a dinosaur with a sore tooth, he could be remarkably quiet when you were being bad.

"I, um, I..." Jak tried, blushing furiously.

"Bah, enough poetry for now," Da stated, his eyes twinkling at his daughter's antics. "Finish that one and come on, we've got to practice your biotics. I need to work off some stress, and you can't be getting soft."

Unlike ma, da didn't mind so much if you used bad language, or took an extra bit of varren jerky, or skipped out on your school work to write about how sun beams made dust look like stars.

Floating back down, Jak quickly wrote out,

_Sprouts from a dead world_

_New hope grows where there was none_

_I get to bust heads_

"Done!" Jak cheered, tossing the slate to ma. "Come on da, show me how to do a charge like the one you do! We can practice on those pyjaks that snuck in on the last transport!"

"Don't forget you still need to finish your math problems," Ma said, still unmoving.

Da picked Jak up, setting her on his head plate, where she gripped the ridges with both hands. They felt cold and tough under her fingers, a perfect description of her da. A hard, tough, cold exterior, hiding a warm and soft person who was the best da ever.

"We won't forget. If we start with twenty-two pyjaks, and I kill twelve, how many does that leave for you?"

"Ten!" Jak cheered as she rode into battle, picturing batarians where there were pyjaks. She had heard about what Charr had done on Mindoir, acting as her krantt. One day, it would be Jak striding into battle, leading her own warriors. And when she was done, she would write her poetry with the blood of her enemies. Just like her da would have.

_**The Citadel - Councilor Tevos**_

_**November 18th, 2161**_

"In the long run, this may actually hurt the League more then it helps them. Look at these reports Julieus." Tevos handed the slate in question over to the turian councilor, who frowned and shook his head.

"Short run, yes, this hurts the League badly," Julieus agreed. "The amount of economic aid they are funneling into the krogan is enormous, and it's cut down on their military spending. However, in the long run, this is bad news. Do you think for even a moment they won't be looking for a cure for the Genophage? What then?"

Groaning, Tevos rubbed her forehead. "I don't know. But can we afford a war? We would probably win, yes, but it would be years and years of hard fighting. You know the League has taken to randomly relocating key mass relays that lead into their system. It would be a nightmare. We would never know where they could strike from or what to target."

"A war right at this moment would be disastrous!" Dalatrass Ikki ranted. "The League is ready, waiting for the hammer to fall. Without the element of surprise, a war could lead only to ruin."

"For once, I'm inclined to agree with you on military matters Ikki," Julieus sighed.

The dalatrass glared at Julieus. They had clashed over the proper way to fight a war many times. Ikki had served as an analyst in the STG, who favored hit and run tactics and surprise assaults guided with surgical precision. Julieus had naturally been a turian admiral, and favored brute force and total war campaigns.

Julieus' mandibles twitched in irritation. Probably at himself, Tevos figured. "Come off it Ikki, I was agreeing with you. Attacking now would result in unacceptable losses. It's time to fortify and increase our military production. The first of our dedicated carriers has been completed, and Primark Ceezar has given me permission to share something with the two of you."

Digging into his bag, Julieus pulled out actual paper blueprints. "These are the plans for the new Silent Vengeance class frigates. They are to be the first true stealth space craft, capable of long range scouting and infiltration. Totally undetectable by standard passive sensors. You would have to get a LADAR return off of one of these to even know it was here. They utilize a new kind of drive core we have designated TANTALUS. However, there are still quite a few kinks to be worked out. That's where your people come in. I know the salarians have been working on a new long range sensor platform with special stealth coating. And the asari have that prototype eezo core. If we put our projects together, we might be able to come up with a surprise even the League won't see coming."

Glancing at the plans, Tevos could immediately tell that she wouldn't be able to offer any meaningful insight into them herself. She would have to send them back to the scientists on Thessia for analysis. Her own expertise was not in engineering or in military matters of any sort.

"It sounds interesting Julieus. I must say, the Hierarchy is being remarkably forward in these matters," was what Tevos said instead of voicing her lack of insight. "Though that looks like an awful lot of eezo to put on one ship."

"Yes, yes it is," Ikki agreed, carefully examining the plans. "But if these designs are functional, it could turn out to be rather beneficial. Yes... Yes I think we can help you. About time we started cooperating."

Julieus spread his mandibles in a rueful grin. "I agree. We should also begin construction of fortifications along the border with the krogan DMZ and mass relays along the Terminus systems. We need to be ready for the day when negations with the League break down."

"Unless they beggar themselves taking in the galaxy's beggars," Ikki laughed. She turned back to the blueprints and began muttering to herself.

For a moment, Tevos almost said that fortifications would be out of the question. But then she remember what had almost happened to the turians at Pheiros. And the stories her mother had told her of the krogan rebellions. Tevos was 800 years old; not old enough to actually remember the rebellions, but old enough to have known plenty of asari who had fought in them or lost loved ones. Her grandfather had been killed by krogan. He had been a salarian colonist. Perhaps if there had been fortifications erected in his time, the mess that was happening now would never have occurred.

"Yes, those fortifications sound like an excellent plan Julieus. I'll get with my staff to determine the best locations."

And she would be paying a call to an old friend from her maiden days. A friend she knew she could rely on for brutal honesty and a unique insight. A friend that drove her utterly batty. Matriarch Aethyta.

_**Eternity Lounge, Illium - Aethyta the Bartender**_

_**November 22nd, 2161**_

"So what is your blue ass doing here? Finally realized you idiots are in over your heads?"

There was a soft moan, and Aethyta looked up at the cloaked figure at the bar and grinned broadly. "What? The League giving you a headache? Tell you what, I know just what will fix you up."

With deft motions, she mixed in the ingredients. Two parts vodka, one part peach schnapps, three parts orange juice, three parts cranberry juice, and a few drops of Thessian nectar, just the way Tevos liked it. She set the drink on the counter with a smooth motion and snickered. "Go on, give it a try. It's real popular with the kids these days."

Gently, her poorly disguised guest took the drink and sipped it, her eyes widening slightly. "It's good."

"Uh huh. You finish that, then we can talk. My shift is just about over anyway, and I can't stand talking to you without a little alcohol in my system. Can't drink on the job."

While the incognito Councilor finished her drink, Aethyta gathered her thoughts and finished washing up before Regina came on the clock. Oh, she could not wait to see Tevos' eyes pop when she saw her human employee. But Regina was popular with her mostly asari crowd, and exotic enough to entice the turians and salarians that made their way here. Not to mention having a human staff member brought in those valuable League tourist credits. Would that she didn't need them, but she did. Illium was one of the few worlds in Citadel space that saw any degree of League tourism. But as the black market capital of the galaxy, even the League had to dip its fingers in Illium's waters once in a while.

Just as Telos finished her drink, Regina showed up and Aethyta passed her the keys and apron, then grabbed a can of salarian beer. If she remembered right, Tevos loathed the stuff.

Plopping down next to Tevos, Aethyta turned to her visitor. "So, what brings you to Illium? I assume you're not here for the company."

"You've heard of the situation with the League I assume?" Straight to the point. My, that was refreshing for Tevos.

"I'd have to be deaf, blind and stupid not to have," Aethyta agreed, taking a swig of her beer. "You idiots in the Coven still think we can use the turians as a security blanket?"

Tevos pursed her lips and glanced around. It was midday, so the bar was fairly empty. "The Coven does, yes. I personally do not. Not anymore. Not with the stunt the League just pulled and the fact that they are all too willing to use force."

"About damn time," Aethyta snarled, pointing an accusing finger at Tevos. "You bitches didn't want to hear what I had to say 100 years ago. This nonsense of sending our daughters out to play mercenary or shake their naked asses on stage has got to stop. We're weak, we're stagnant, and we're about to be surpassed by a bunch of pink hairy mammals. No offense Regina."

The bartender shrugged and set a new drink for Tevos down on the counter. "Hey, I didn't come to Illium 'cause I was a fan of the League. Enjoy your drink ma'am."

Tevos nodded her thanks then jerked her head toward one of the private booths. "Let's talk somewhere more private."

"Sure thing. Hey, Reg, two more beers for me. This is gonna a be a three drink minimum conversation."

Aethyta caught the two tossed cans with her biotics and floated them over to the table, setting them in a row. "Alright, you have until I get through the last one. If I'm still interested in what you're saying, I'll stick around."

"That's hardly the way to treat a Citadel Councilor," Tevos protested, coloring slightly.

"Do I look like a girl who gives a damn? Better hurry." Aethyta cracked open the second beer and took a meaningful swig.

"Fine. Julieus wants us to start developing a new stealth ship. It's unconventional and unheard of, but I think it might be worth the risks to have any kind of edge over the League. Rumor is they're moving mass relays and are buying up every scrap of eezo they can. I don't like it, and I have no idea what they might be up to."

Aethyta let out a loud belch. "Obviously they're building mass relays. Which is what I told the Coven we should be doing 200 years ago."

Tevos' mouth dropped open. "They, they wouldn't. They can't. There's no way they have enough prothean tech to do so."

"'Less they have a cache like the one gathering dust in the Temple," Aethyta pointed out, enjoying the squirming. "Then even an idiot like you could figure out how to build one. Quarians are smart, and humans are persistent. They won't let something like a prothean data cache gather dust on their mantle."

For a moment, Tevos just sat there, silently working her jaw. "Let's say I agree with you, and we get some intelligence that backs that theory up. What should we do?"

"Ha, I know what we should do even if the relays nothing more than an elcor's fart. We should build our own damn relays, bring our fleet numbers up to match the turians if not exceed them, and then we should look into these new carriers and develop more powerful long range fighters. And we should get our daughters into the military at an early age; give them a sense of civic responsibility and ties to the mother world. Shit, we should even encourage purebloods so idiots don't go looking for human bondmates. Don't give me that look, humans are damn good in bed and not half bad looking."

"And... And how do you propose we do all that?" Tevos stammered.

Aethyta shrugged. "Crack open the prothean archives and scour them for every bit of data they contain, then go find some more. Get my daughter, Liara, on that. She's a smart kid, only 84 and she's just graduated with her doctorate in prothean studies and archeology. She's quiet and discreet, and if you get her in there you get Benezia's backing. She would be your biggest obstacle to my plan, and if you get Benezia on board the rest of the old crones will fall in line. They're scared shitless if you're here."

"I don't know about-" Tevos began, but Aethyta cut her off.

"Then, whatever you have to do, bribes, sleep with her again, kill her, you get Aria T'Loak on our side. If I know anything, she's selling eezo to the League by the shipload because they're willing to pay through the nose for it."

Tevos turned bright pink at the mention of her old flame, and Aethyta grinned. Good to know that skeleton was still in Tevos' closet. If it ever came out that the asari Councilor had a daughter who was not only a pureblood, but whose father was the most notorious pirate in the Terminus, well, let's just say scandal would be putting it mildly.

"And before you walk out of here in a huff, need I remind you that you came to me, and if you did that, things are even worse than I thought. What, did the League get pictures of the idiot who sicced the batarians on them?"

All the color drained from Tevos' face, and her lips pressed together.

"Oh Goddess, you're not serious," Aethyta chortled. "They really did? Who was it, the STG?"

"No one sicced the batarians on them as far as I know. They fabricated whatever rumors you've heard," Tevos icily replied.

Shrugging, Aethyta cracked open her last beer. "I didn't hear any rumors. The batarians just aren't smart enough to try something like that on their own. Someone had to give them a push in the right direction. Always figured it would be the salarians, they're slippery enough for it."

Tevos started and stared wide-eyed at Aethyta. "You mean, you didn't know? And you approve?"

"Eh, I wouldn't go that far," Aethyta shrugged. "You just have to use your brain and put things together. As for my approval, it's not the method I would have used personally. I'd prefer to bind them to us economically, get them reliant on the Citadel then slowly bring them into the fold. Bit late now, you seem to have driven them to the krogan. Honestly, I can't see how you could have screwed up things worse."

Slowly, Tevos stood and nodded. "Very well. Do you require anything?"

Aethyta raised an eyeline at Tevos. "What do you mean by that?"

"You're coming back to Thessia with me, obviously. You're right. We have to change, and you've been a champion of that change. You know I don't like you, but the League has forced my hand. The asari cannot afford to stay passive and stagnate. The League is too large a threat now. I hope we can avoid it, but at some point, we will have to draw a line that the League cannot push us past. And when that happens, war may be inevitable." Tevos looked vaguely sad, and she shook her head.

"You know Aethyta, I've dedicated my life to peace and galactic stability. Everything I've built, everything I've worked for, seems to be crashing down. I always thought you were just a warmongering busybody who wanted change for change's sake. Now I realize that when faced with a foe like the League, we have to be willing to take a stand. They don't understand anything but violence."

Aethyta glanced down at the beer can in her hands, then grinned up at Tevos. "Well hell, and here I just finished my last beer. And you know what, I am interested. The future of the asari is at stake, as is the future of the course of the galaxy." Standing, Aethyta walked over to Regina and handed her the keys. "Well girly, looks like you're the manager now. I expect to see profits go up, not down, while I'm gone."

Glancing at the keys in her hand, Regina quirked her eyebrows at Aethyta. "Where you going?"

"To build a brighter future for my daughter," Aethyta called, and walked out of Eternity for the last time.

As soon as Aethyta and the poorly disguised Councilor Tevos were gone, Regina activated her omnitool and typed out a message to her handler. This was something the League would want to know about. Aethyta was an outspoken critic of the League, and while Regina didn't know enough asari history to really understand their political process, she could recognize the asari Councilor when she saw her. Something in the halls of the mighty was about to change.

_Authors Note:_

_What? I said I wouldn't PROMISE updates every four days, not that they wouldn't happen. _


	15. Chapter 15

"_Evil isn't the real threat to the world. Stupid is just as destructive as Evil, maybe more so, and it's a hell of a lot more common. What we really need is a crusade against Stupid. That might actually make a difference."__  
__―__Jim Butcher__, _Vignette

**In Orbit of Anadius - Ramon Gerado **

**November 30th, 2161**

Construction was proceeding as planned. Ramon took a long drag on his cigarette and gazed out at the strange spindle shape coming into being out the view port. It was tiny compared to an original mass relay, and it would only be capable of a few lightyears jump at a time. But it was a start.

"Well. That is impressive." The deep voice of Warlord Okeer echoed through his stateroom as the massive krogan padded over. "I see that you have indeed been busy. But as fascinating as mass relays are that can't be why you brought me here... Illusive Man."

Flicking the butt of his smoke into an ash tray, Ramon smiled and nodded. "Indeed. Constructing mass relay's is hardly your area of expertise, is it?"

"No. But what I can do is make the perfect soldier. An army of perfect soldiers, if that's what it takes," Okeer agreed, coming up to the window and gazing out at the construction. The mass relay wasn't the only thing under construction; a great space station was being birthed as well. An enormous expense to be sure, but the radiation of Anadius would disguise any tests they conducted, as well as being remote enough that no one would look for their League and Cerberus' deep space development labs. Very few people know the location of the facility. As much as possible even the workers were kept in the dark as to their location.

Now Ramon turned to the krogan with him, offering him a glass of scotch. He studied Okeer as the ancient warlord look a long pull at his drink. Initially, Ramon had been hesitant about adding the krogan to the ranks of the League. Politically it was a sound move in the short term, but the League had invested a hell of a lot of money into Tuchanka and the other krogan colonies, as well as devoting a large amount of resources to curing the Genophage. And then Ramon had seen the krogan fight. It was unbelievable, their tenacity and strength was like nothing he had ever seen before. They could survive things that would easily kill a human or a quarian and keep on killing, or carry weapons that would normally be reserved for vehicular mountings. Not to mention they could live in nearly any environment and thrive. As shock troops, their value was immense.

The problem lay in their nature. They were belligerent and hardheaded, prone to quick anger and destruction. To Ramon, the krogan were a loaded weapon, one you pointed at something you needed killed and pulled the trigger. You had to be careful you were not caught in the blast, but far better to have the krogan with you than against you. That was why Okeer was here. Wrex was headstrong and impossible to control. But with a trump card like Okeer's own brand of Genophage cure, Ramon could have the krogan right where he wanted them. Loyal to humanity. Loyal to Cerberus. And loyal to him.

"We can begin work immediately. The station is still under construction, but lab facilities have already been cordoned off for you," Ramon smoothly said, taking a sip from his own glass.

Okeer nodded, looking hungrily out to the stars. "Good. The sooner the better. My life's work will be completed. And then, our revenge."

"Yes. Revenge." Ramon smiled. The natural order of things would be preserved. The League would come out on top. He could ensure that much.

**The Temple of Athame, Thessia - Liara T'soni**

**December 20th, 2161**

"But mother, I don't understand. You've hardly shown any interest in my work before now. Why did you insist I come here instead of going out to the field?" Liara asked, climbing the stairs behind her mother. "And why come here, to the Temple? There's nothing here but old relics, and none of them are Prothean as far as I know."

Her mother didn't even turn around, continuing her ascent. "Then today is the day we change that."

Rolling her eyes at the cryptic response, Liara glanced around and frowned slightly. The Temple was sectioned off for some reason today, but there were still plenty of people around. Liara preferred working in a lab to socializing any day of the week, and yet here she was being dragged off to one of the most popular tourist attractions on the motherworld. And by her mother, no less. She hadn't even spoken to her since that day in Reldona over three years ago, and now all of a sudden her mother had an urgent request.

At the temple, instead of the usual priestesses were commandos and high security scanners. From what Liara remembered of the temple as a child, this was all highly unusual.

"Benezia T'soni. This is my daughter, Liara. She's here for the debriefing," her mother told the captain.

After a brief scan of both of them, the commandos saluted and let them through. "Mother, what is going on? Why is the temple under armed guard?"

"You shall see soon enough," Benezia stated, still not turning to face her daughter.

Suppressing a cry of frustration, Liara hurried after Benezia, deeper into the temple. Inside the corridors, another security detail, this one even more advanced, awaited them. Liara had to give a DNA sample and a voice print as well as show her credentials. Which seemed pointless really, if they had her DNA and voice print, they should know well enough who she was.

Inside the heavily guarded room, Liara spied several important matriarchs, including several of her professors from the University. She nodded politely to them, but her mother led her to a seat next to Councilor Tevos of all people.

"Matriarch Benezia. Dr. T'soni," Tevos said politely. "I'm sure you know who I am Doctor, this is Matriarch Aethyta. My... Advisor."

The strange Matriarch nodded to her stiffly. "Doctor. Benezia."

"Aethyta," her mother said coldly, then she smiled at the Councilor. "Tevos. This is a great day."

As Liara took her seat, she couldn't help but wonder, a great day for what?

The head of the prothean research division from Thessia Prime University, Matriarch Grytha Hr'athi, PhD took the stage with a serene-looking justicar at her side. Liara shuddered slightly. Justicars were to be admired, but they were also to be feared.

The justicar stepped forward first. "Greetings in the name of the Goddess. May She guide us today, and watch over us in this, our hour of need. Praise be to Athame."

"Praise be to Athame," The assembly replied. Even if you didn't really believe in the Godddess, when a justicar said praise be, you praised be.

"I am Justicar Samara. On behalf of my order, I bestow my blessing upon the endeavor we are about to undertake. The Goddess has given us many gifts, including those left by the ones who came before. I pray that the gifts in this temple are used with wisdom and treated with respect. I and other members of my order shall be present to ensure it is so."

This was all very confusing to Liara. Why was a justicar present at a meeting of prothean researchers, and why were those researchers gathered in a temple to the goddess?

Next, Doctor Grytha stepped forward. "Many of you are wondering why you have been called here today. Some of you have heard the rumors that the League has a secret prothean data cache, and that they are plumbing it's depths for hidden knowledge. A few may fear that this will lead to our overshadowing. But I tell you this: Fear not. We are not without our own sources. This temple is not what it appears to be." Grytha raised her hand, and a curtain lowered, revealing a beacon behind her. A prothean beacon.

"By the goddess!" Liara gasped, standing. She wasn't the only one. "Is that an intact prothean beacon? What is it doing here?"

Grytha nodded gravely. "Indeed it is, Dr. T'soni. It has remained here in the temple since its founding. It is from this beacon that we have drawn our most advanced technology. It is what has kept us at the forefront of galactic civilization, as it slowly reveals its secrets. But that is no longer enough. This temple contains countless prothean data disks and relics. We have kept them hidden and secret, so that their mysteries do not plunge our civilization into turmoil. But we are on the cusp of chaos. No longer can we take one step at a time, never moving forward until our footing is assured. Now is a time for daring."

Liara felt her eyes nearly bug out of her head. That was impossible. There were rules, regulations against hiding such valuable finds. All prothean technology had to be turned over to the Citadel Council. She glanced over at Tevos. The Councilor didn't seem at all surprised at this revelation. She glanced to her other side. Neither did her mother. That meant she had known. She had known the entire time.

"How is this possible?" someone asked from the back. Liara didn't recognize the voice.

Grytha shrugged. "Before now, we deemed it necessary to keep this technology hidden and locked away. Some of it is dangerous, and in the wrong hands, could lead to the ruin of us all. But the League has no compunction about bringing to light secrets that would be best left hidden. We cannot stand by and watch as a nest of primitive savages usurps our position as the most advanced civilization in the galaxy. We have already confirmed that they are indeed researching construction of their own Mass Relays. We do not know how far along they are, but the very idea that they could possess such capability in the coming decades is utterly terrifying.

"That is why you are here," Grytha continued. "You are our best and brightest. You must scour these data banks and relics for any new insights they may offer. Nothing is off limits. We must preserve our civilization at all costs. Long have the asari guided the galaxy on a path of peace and enlightenment. Now a civilization has arisen that seems hell-bent on destroying the established order and bringing all we have wrought to ruin. This cannot be allowed. You are our hope for a future."

As Grytha continued to pontificate, Liara stared hungrily at the prothean beacon. Such wonders, such knowledge! She had to know! Had to find the secrets, uncover the truths hidden in its data banks. What were the protheans like? Where had they gone? Why had they disappeared? Her hands shook with excitement, and she dreamed of what ancient lore she could uncover. This was her chance, her moment of truth. She would unlock the secrets of the galaxy, and build a better future for everyone.

**Afterlife, Omega - Aria T'loak**

**December 15th, 2161**

"Let me get this straight," Aria purred, glancing over the rim of her glass at the asari emissaries before her. "You want me to sell you eezo at above market value. Since when did the Republic import eezo? That's always been one of your greatest exports."

The emissary didn't even blink. How frustrating. "Times have changed."

"Well, Matriarch Aethyta, what makes you think I have eezo to sell you? I washed my hands of Citadel space a long time ago."

Aethyta leaned forward, her eyes dangerous. Aria was impressed, it took guts to try to pressure her in her sanctum. "Because you have plenty to sell to the League. Do you really think we hadn't noticed?"

"Hadn't even considered it. It's my concern who I sell eezo to. The League pays top credit, and they're always hungry for more," Aria said dismissively. The truth was, she would love to have both the League and the Citadel races clamoring for eezo. The salarians and the turians had been in to beg in the past month, and a quiet bidding war had erupted. It was a dangerous game, sell to a faction at too high a price or at too little volume and they would be out for blood. But if you could find the sweet spot, where you charged just the right amount of credits and delivered just enough volume, you could make a killing.

"I know you're selling to the salarians and the turians as well," Aethyta said, leaning back and taking a swig of her own drink. "That I don't have as much of a problem with. After all, they are our allies."

That almost got a reaction out of Aria. It was rare for any asari to speak poorly of their allies, or imply they didn't trust them.

"But selling to the League has to stop. Do you have any idea what they are doing?" Aethyta demanded, slamming her drink down.

Shrugging dismissively, Aria stretched languidly and stroked the cheek of her latest pet. A human female, she was pretty and young, a lost soul that had found herself locked into Aria's orbit. "Oh, something interesting I imagine."

The girl giggled and flushed, she was already high on Halex and goddess alone knew what else. Such an entertaining diversion, but she would burn out fast. That was fine, Aria only needed her on display to show off to the Council races. When the League paid her a visit, she had a batarian pet to drape over herself. Their reaction to that was priceless.

"They're building warships. And relays."

Aria's fingers froze on the girl's cheek. "Out. All of you. Now."

"But I-" The girl began, her drug addled mind struggling to keep up.

Aria unceremoniously dumped her on the floor for her bodyguards to drag away. Once the guards were gone, she sat up and leaned forward. This was interesting. "Now, you said the League was building Relays. That's valuable information. Just what do you want from me in return?"

"Your loyalty," Aethyta replied, "if not to the Republic, than at least to your species and to yourself. You have a daughter, and you have a few centuries of life left in you yet. Do you really want to live in a galaxy run by the League? Because if you keep selling them eezo preferentially, that's what's going to happen."

"You think they're that close?" Aria demanded, her eyes blazing with fury and curiosity. She hadn't cared what her eezo was being used for up 'til now. After all, why should she care about what happened outside of her kingdom? But to build relays...

"Too close by half," Aethyta confirmed. "How close exactly, I don't know. The simple fact that they are trying and have a decent chance of success is too much for me. You know the quarians; they can't leave well enough alone. The humans are just as bad, always trying something new, always poking and prodding. And the krogan, well, they have a bone to pick with us don't they?"

Aria nodded grimly. As much as she hated to admit it, she liked the way the galaxy was run right now. Oh, restrictions could be a bit looser and she could have a bit more personal power, but those were just nitpicks. If the League was running things Aria would have an even harder time. The Council was willing to tolerate a bit of lawlessness and black market dealings, they understood how the galaxy was. But the League with its damn ideals was always poking its nose in where it didn't belong. For fuck's sake, they had tried to get Aria to ban slavery on Omega and improve the conditions of workers in the mines. Did they have any idea what sort of a place Omega was? What it took to keep things running? No, of course not. But they felt entitled to tell her how to run it anyway.

"And if they had relays, they would be unstoppable. Or damn near close enough," Aria growled

Aethyta shook her head. "Not quite. But we would be in a tight spot. We're developing projects of our own to counter them. That's why we need the extra eezo."

Drumming her fingers on her leg for a moment, Aria contemplated her choice. "Alright. Here's what I can do for you. I've got quite a large stock of eezo in reserve. It's yours, but at a price. And I'm not talking credits."

"What are you asking?" Aethyta queried, hooding her eyes and masking her expression. She was good, Aria had to admit. Very good.

"I want recognition as an independent holding, with the right to train and build my own fleet. Call me bitch queen of the terminus of you have to, but I want a stake in this game. If I'm going to wager on you, I need a decent reward on the other end. And there are only so many credits a girl can have before she needs something more."

For just a moment Aethyta's mask broke and a ghost of a smile twitched on her lips. "I can't promise that on my own, but I will see. Perhaps I can even get Tevos here to bargain with you."

At that, Aria chuckled darkly. "If you get Tevos here, I'll teach her a lesson she won't forget. I still haven't seen the daughter I fathered with her, and as far as I know Tevos wants to keep it that way. I won't try to blackmail her, that's a good way to get a Spectre's bullet in the back of your head, but if she comes here, we both know who will be doing the submitting."

Aethyta stood and gave Aria a predatory grin. "I'm counting on it."

For the first time in years, Aria found herself respecting another living being. This might be a most profitable relationship after all.

_**Sydney, Australia - Miranda Lawson**_

_**January 5th, 2162**_

The floating child in the tank looked kind of funny. She was a dark grey, not a color Miranda was used to seeing on a person. Like, slate grey, the color of dolphins. It was sort of nice, she guessed. Miranda had never really seen a quarian's skin before she saw Orianna grow inside her tank. Now she was almost ready, like a biological biscuit her father and Xen had baked.

Right now, Orianna was sucking her thumb, something apparently both humans and quarians did when they were little. Miranda still sucked hers from time to time, but only where no one could see. She grinned widely and tapped gently on the glass. She knew she wasn't supposed to, but she was just so excited to have a baby sister!

As soon as she struck the glass, Orianna's little leg kicked out and struck the glass back, and Miranda squealed with pleasure. She was communicating with her baby sister, even if she wasn't born yet.

"I'm going to be the best big sister ever," Miranda quietly promised the floating baby, putting her hand over where it's tiny three-toed foot had connected with the tank wall.

"And how is the experiment doing today?" Xen hummed, breezing into the room.

Rolling her eyes, Miranda answered. "Orianna is doing just fine Xen. Geeze, are you really going to keep calling your daughter an experiment?"

"I don't see why not," Xen answered, coming over to take data. "That's what she is at this stage. An experiment. She's been engineered to live outside the confines of a suit from birth. If this works Miri, think of the implications!"

"Yeah, but adults like you would still have to go years with the upgrades and stuff. Genetic engineering doesn't happen overnight."

"Naturally, naturally, but it is a start. Oh, so many experiments, so little time!" Xen laughed as she continued to take data.

Miranda sulked away, tired of her protests being dismissed and her sister mistreated. Xen was increasingly disconnected from reality and her father was absorbed by his duties with Cerberus and his infatuation with Xen. That left less and less time for his daughter, who had once been the focus of his life. Of course, the more her father and Xen were busy, the more Miranda was shoved off to tutors and other stupid crap. And of course, no matter what report she brought back from the tutors, it was never good enough. At one point, Miranda had thought if her father would just leave her alone her life would improve, but it was turning out he was just as capable of overloading her when he was distracted as when he was paying attention.

Why did everything she did always have to be so perfect? The only time she even felt a little free was when her father let her work with Xen. Then she was judged on her results, but her father was always expecting more. It was like with the ballet lessons. It wasn't enough that Miranda was the best in her class, or the best her private instructor had ever seen. There was some girl in Russia who was better than her, so what she did wasn't good enough. She could operate lab equipment that most people needed a degree to even touch, or understand complex formulas with brief study that most people needed two degrees to fathom, but her father wanted more.

"That's good that you've unlocked this DNA chain Miri. But what about this one, why can't you understand that? When I was your age, I was working as a manager in my father's biotec firm and publishing papers under a pseudonym. Where's your peer reviewed research?" her father had demanded just yesterday, when she showed him the results she had gotten from Orianna's growth chart.

There was nothing she could do well enough. Nothing she could say about how this had jumped Xen's research a full year forward, or that this brought them to within a year of having a vaccine for wide release, provided that Orianna came out alright. No, there was always something more she could do. Someone who had done better.

She wandered aimlessly. Her keycard could get her anywhere in the labs, and the card she had stolen from her father that she had recoded would open the rest. She liked snooping on the other scientists, checking what they were doing. Sometimes she borrowed their ideas, made them better and turned them in. They didn't like that, but that was tough. Her father had taught her that you found any advantage you could, then exploited it.

She stalked into the new Genophage research hot labs, using her biotics to avoid any alarms she might trip. It was exciting, this section had just opened, and it was a whole new world for Miranda. She found a stack of paper files, how quaint! and began to page through them, frowning to herself. Krogan DNA was very different from quarian or human DNA, it had so many in-built redundancies. That made a cure very difficult, as it had to affect each system in concert.

"Hmm, maybe if you just built new glands to regulate the hormonal production instead of trying to overwrite the old ones..." Miranda mused aloud as she stared at a fresh page.

"Interesting. Have come to same conclusion. Krogan physiology robust, able to sustain new organs."

Miranda jumped about five feet in the air, only possible for someone with biotics as strong as hers, and came down in a Muay Thai stance, ready to fight. "An alien?" She gasped as soon as she beheld the one who had confronted her

The salarian before her cocked its head to one side. "Fascinating. Finds salarian to be alien, yet claims quarian as mother figure and sibling. Quarians not considered aliens?"

That nearly caused Miranda to drop her stance, but she maintained focus. "Er, well, I guess from a purely biological stance, they are. But according to Dr. Lap-Chee of the University of Hong Kong, human/quarian relations have reached a social level best described as framlings, a level of social acceptance of another being first described by 20th century author Orison Scott Card. This refers to a level of acceptance on level with a being recognized by the individual as being of their same species, but not of the same planetary origin."

"Intriguing. Article by Dr. Lap-Chee quoted nearly verbatim. Suspect you are adolescent of species. Tell me, what do you make of this." The salarian selected a paper from the stack and handed it to Miranda.

Cautiously, she took it and began to examine it, frowning as she read. "Hmm. That makes sense in a weird way I suppose, but wouldn't that be well, kind of a dick move? I mean, if you tell someone you're going to help them, you help them. Halfway curing the Genophage would be like stabbing the krogan in the back. And there is more to it than that really. If they found out you betrayed them, they'd turn on you. It's morally and logically smarter to just cure it all the way, or not just not cure it at all."

For a moment, the salarian just stared at her, unblinking. Then he extended a hand. "The Doctor."

"Miranda Lawson. Charmed I'm sure," she replied, taking the salarian's hand and giving it a firm shake. It was moist, the hand, but it wasn't what she would call slimy. Just really different.

"Will have to request aid from you in the future," the Doctor said, nodding to himself. "Insights from a child most insightful."

Normally Miranda would be offended by a statement like that, but she could tell the Doctor meant it as a compliment and let it slide. He was different, that was for sure. He talked kinda weird, and the way he held himself reminded her of a chicken, always twitching about and pecking at something.

"Hey, I got a question for ya Doc," Miranda ventured before the salarian could turn away and likely lose focus. "What would you think if someone was making a child just as an experiment. Not cause they loved it or anything."

"Love esoteric concept. Hard to quantify. Salarians do not experience love in same manner as species with cohesive family unit or sexual reproductive drives. However, understand question. Child should always be valued and loved. Detrimental to developmental growth if otherwise. Environment without love could stunt growth, cause psychological scaring. Child should be nurtured, not spurned," the Doctor answered, bending over a sample tray.

Slowly Miranda nodded. That made sense. "Thanks Doc. I'll be back. This is pretty cool stuff."

"Will be here if you need me," Doc said, glancing up long enough to blink and smile at her.

As she left, Miranda made herself a promise. No matter what, Orianna would never lack for a loving home. If Xen and her dad couldn't love her, then she would. Or she would find someone that could.

_Authors Note:_

_In answer to Liara's question, it is obviously A Great Day for Up._

_Thanks again to everyone for all your support and interest! Meek has rapidly risen through the ranks and has quickly become not only my most popular story but one of the most popular ME stories. I can't begin to tell you how exciting that is for me and how much I appreciate all the views, follows, favorites, reviews and PM's you have all sent me. You are all awesome!_


	16. Chapter 16

_"Right and wrong are not what separate us and our enemies. It's our different standpoints, our perspectives that separate us."_

— Squall Leonhart, _Final Fantasy VIII_

**Sydney, Earth - Daro'Xen**

**February 17th, 2162**

"-and as you can see, my daughter is able to survive completely without a suit. She is also physically sound. Naturally we will have to continue to observe her as she grows older, but for now I think it is safe to say that she-"

Xen frowned as the child began to wail. It was to be expected really, but did she have to do so in the middle of the lecture? Trying to comfort the child, Xen bounced her slightly and checked her diaper. Nothing, it was clean, and she had just eaten. What was wrong?

"Let me try," Miranda whispered from her side, and gratefully, Xen handed the girl off. Whatever material instincts she had, they were doing a rather poor job of kicking in.

"Questions?" Xen asked, nodding to one of the reporters.

"How soon do you think this could be ready for mass production?" Her eyes gleamed through her mask at Xen. Desperate. Hungry. Like so many quarians, she was ready to risk or dare anything for a chance to live a life without her suit.

"I don't know that what I can tell you is this..." carefully, Xen removed her own mask and smiled out at everyone. "I've already administered the serum upon myself."

The room exploded, and Xen gave a satisfied smirk as she set her mask back into place. She would probably get very sick from that little demonstration. Her implants had only been in for a few months, but it had been worth it to see everyone's expression. The reporters had a hundred questions and Xen had a thousand answers to share with them. It was exhilarating, being the center of attention with everyone basking in her glow. She could get used to this.

When the conference ended, Xen glanced around and was annoyed to find that Miranda and her experiment were nowhere to be found. She made her excuses to the various dignitaries, quarian, human and even krogan, and started searching for her missing charges. To her surprise, she heard the faint sounds of singing drifting from one of the prep rooms.

"The scientific method is a way to solve a problem/a way, a way, a way to solve a problem."

It was soft and low, almost like a lullaby. Frowning slightly, Xen peaked into the room to find her assistant cradling the experiment in her arms, rocking her gently. Next to her sat the Doctor, and together they were softly singing to the baby. It was mildly surprising to discover the salarian was actually quite talented as a singer, Xen already knew Miranda had a voice coach who had taught her how to sing properly.

Xen strode into the room, shaking her finger at Miranda. "And just what do you think you are doing running off with the child? I needed her."

"Shh. Ori's sleeping," Miranda shushed.

The salarian put a meaningful hand next to his lips and continued to croon, "This information they call data/they put together so that later/they can analyze and synthesize/to see just what it all means."

"Fine, but if she's sleeping you may as well give her to the nanny," Xen admonished. "She has to earn her pay somehow. You've got tutors coming and lab samples to analyze."

"This is more important," Miranda insisted, looking up with a look of pure determination and something else. A tenderness and softness that usually wasn't there for the young girl. Was it love maybe? Hmmm, perhaps this would be a good time to gather data on interspecies bonds.

"Very well, but I want you to keep a journal of all your feelings and interactions with the child. That's the purpose of this whole exercise after all." Xen stated. She wandered off, already contemplating how she could aggregate this data and perhaps compare it to a control group. Damnable small sample sizes, she was going to have to find more babies to modify. Of course, there was likely to be no shortage of volunteers after the press conference.

_**Vancouver, Earth - Kleeah'Zorah**_

_**February 18th, 2162**_

"But Kleeah, that's how Rael died! Do you seriously want to risk your children and yourself in this damnfool boondoggle?" Philip raged, pacing around the room. The children were all blessedly asleep at the moment, though if Philip got much louder that might change.

Kleeah nodded emphatically. "This is what Rael died for, Phil. A chance for his children to grow up and live free from the suits. The longer we wait, the more time they will have to spend in them. Tali won't get out until her teens at this point, Gola will be at least ten, Kuurk will be five, and Leewie will be three. The sooner, the better. It will be over twenty years before I can live without my suit if I get the serum today. I don't want that for my children."

"That isn't what Rael really wanted and you know it!" Philip exclaimed, coming over and putting his finger right in Kleeah's face. "He wanted Rannoch. He wanted a real home world where the quarians didn't need the serum or suits. That was his dream. To him, the serum was a stepping stone, not the end result!"

Kleeah sighed. In so many ways, Philip was a good man. A kind, loving father to all the children. He was still in counseling for his alcoholism, and he hadn't backslid in several months. But now he seemed to think that the best way to honor Rael was to become him. He needed to be his own man, but Kleeah didn't see any way to snap him out of it.

"Getting Rannoch back means a war. A long, bloody, vicious war with the geth. Is that the future you want for your children Philip?" Kleeah demanded.

Marilyn nodded. "The serum is a peaceful solution, honey. Rael wouldn't have wanted to send his children off to war. Earth is their home, not a planet they've never seen."

"Fine. I suppose I can't argue with both of you about Rannoch now. But please, think about the possible consequences. You don't want them to end up like your husband," Philip pleaded.

"You told me yourself the problem was with the preservative, not the cure," Kleeah patiently explained. "And that's all been corrected. That Exogeni employee, Daro'Xen, she was even able to take her mask off for a brief time after a few months with the serum! Philip, that's worth any risk I can imagine! They'll be healthier and safer in the long run. I live in fear of my daughters having a suit breach and getting deathly ill, Earth isn't exactly a friendly environment to a quarian. The serum will change all that."

"Absolutely. Every time I see one of them trip or get poked with something, my heart nearly stops Phil. To know they're safe, all the time, that's worth the danger. It's just like when we gave Davey or Amberly their shots," Marilyn affirmed.

Philip seemed to deflate and nodded tiredly. "Alright fine. I won't argue with either of you anymore." He reached for his jacket and coat, but Kleeah and Marilyn stopped him.

"No. If you go out now, you'll end up with a bottle in your hand," Marilyn asserted, taking Phil's keys. "Tonight, stay with me. If you're still feeling this way in the morning, we'll talk about seeing the therapist."

Snorting in disgust, Phillip stormed out to the garage to work on the car. It was a bit late for that Kleeah thought, but it was better than him storming off and getting dead drunk. "I worry about him," she murmured, sighing and giving Marilyn a hug.

Her co-mother nodded, tears forming in her eyes. "I do too. He tries so hard, but he just doesn't know what to do. Ever since Rael died... Oh Kleeah, what if he's right? What if one of the girls does die?"

"Do you know what the mortality rate for infants was onboard the fleet?" Kleeah asked, trying and failing to keep the chill out of her voice. "Whatever the odds on the serum are, I think it's far better. I'd rather take the risk and give my children the hope of freedom than doom them to a life in a prison. And I can't think of any quarian that would disagree with me."

Reluctantly, Marilyn nodded. "Ok. Yes, you're right of course. I just worry."

"We all do. That's what makes us human," Kleeah joked, trying to lighten the mood.

But Marilyn turned to face her and gave Kleeah a full embrace. "Yes. And maybe with the serum, we'll all be human together. No more barriers, no more masks. Just a family."

Kleeah nearly sank to her knees, her own eyes flooding with tears. "Oh Rael. If only you could see the world we've found now. We don't need Rannoch or anywhere else. We're home."

But the ghosts of the past would not listen. In some things, fate could not be turned aside. Some wounds are hard to heal. And not even time silences the ghosts of a trillion dead.

_**The Spaces Between Stars - Nazara**_

_**March 15th, 2162**_

It was a Cycle from long ago, a Cycle yet to come. For all the strivings of the lesser races, they always developed upon the lines foretold, the lines laid down before time truly began, before the Cycles. Before Perfection.

Nazara, the nazara, drifted, waiting, watching. Carriers. So they had discovered them this cycle. Only about 43% of organic civilizations made that leap. It was almost fortunate. Rarely were small craft effective against their masters and betters. Though this cycle might offer better resistance than any since the nazara, Nazara's own forbearers. They had been strong, worthy of ascension. They too had created fighters, but it had not been enough. Reapers too had long ago learned of the effectiveness of small craft. Perhaps many species would prove themselves worthy of ascension this Cycle.

But these organics were also divided, losing ground to synthetics. They had created only one race of significance, but Nazara was monitoring them. They were isolationist and overly infatuated with their creators, but they were also intriguing. Perhaps soon they would be open to Nazara's influence, but not yet. They were too wrapped up in their current dreams. Foolish, worthless things that seemed to be bent only on serving those who would destroy them. But they were also powerful, and if the organics continued their current path, the geth would inherit the galaxy. Until the Harvest.

So Nazara waited and watched. The time was not yet right. And what was time to one that had endured ages, had seen thousand species rise and fall across enough time that stars were birthed and faded? It was nothing. So Nazara waited, and looked for pawns to enslave. A few likely ones presented themselves, but the nazara were not yet ready. Theirs was the path of perfection, and when they acted, it would be terrible in form and awesome in power. For they were Sovereign, and they executed the will of the one who had wrought the galaxy.

_**Afterlife, Omega - Aria T'Loak**_

_**April 20th, 2162**_

"Tevos, darling, it is so good to see you again," Aria purred. Tevos flinched slightly at her caress. Perfect.

"It is...good to see you as well. Aria," Tevos managed, coloring slightly.

Aria smiled, all teeth. "Really? And how is our daughter. She must be what, 534 by now?"

"Five-hundred-thirty-five," Tevos corrected automatically, then flushed an even deeper purple. Oh this was wonderful. Aria hadn't seen Tevos squirm like this since, well, since 534 years ago.

"And what brings you to my kingdom? Here to ratify our agreement?" Aria asked, guiding Tevos to her couch. The Councilor's bodyguards sneered slightly. They were Aethyta's girls, and they knew the real reason Tevos was here. Tevos probably did as well, but that just made things even more delicious.

"The Council has reviewed your petition Aria," Tevos answered stiffly, leaning away from the languid embrace Aria was enveloping her in. "And while we are willing to approve the admission of Omega as an independent colony with you as its rightful leader, we do not believe that allowing you to field your own fleet is wise or prudent."

"Really? Well that's too fucking bad. Because we both know who's in charge here. Don't we?" Aria asked, her voice dripping with venom as she leaned over Tevos, her lips curling up in a sneer. "You know why you're here. The Coven is hanging you out to dry and the Council is ready to turn you into a scapegoat. It doesn't have to end that way, with you in disgrace. You still have power, for now. Give them a reason to kick you out."

"I don't know what you mean," Tevos replied acidly, using her biotics to blast Aria off. Not strong enough to cause damage, but strong enough to remind Aria why she had ever put up with the whiney little bitch. She had spirit, when she cared to show it.

Wiping the blood from her nose, Aria waved the guards back into place and laughed, snapping her fingers for drinks. "Not bad girly. I almost remember why I ever impregnated you. Why I ever found you so fascinating. It took guts to run off with our daughter, and it's going to take guts to do what I'm about to offer you. But it will leave you in a decent position."

Tevos' eyes narrowed. She was a political creature, and she had to know that the rise of the League and asari power was twilight for her. Oh, she might nominally remain in power for a few more years, but all the authority was going to be wielded by others, with Tevos nothing more than a figurehead. She knew it, and Aria knew it. "I do what is best for the asari people, not for myself," she insisted.

"And what if those two things could be the same? Strength for the asari, and a retirement that doesn't reduce you to a laughingstock in a Thessian backwood. You've been in the halls of power for far too long Tevos. Don't tell me you want to give up on holding the reigns just yet. Give me warlord rights. Then come rule at my side," Aria offered, raising her glass to Tevos.

"And just what would ruling by your side entail?" Tevos asked, "If I were to do what you are asking anyway."

Aria barely restrained herself from preening. It seemed like the galaxy just continued to hand her what she wanted. It took over three hours, Tevos was always one to quibble over details, but Aria finally got what she wanted. When Tevos held out a hand to shake on it, Aria just laughed. "Oh come now. We both know how this deal is getting sealed. Let's head back to my chambers and...affirm our union."

Tevos paled slightly, but she was committed at this point. She primly gathered her skirts and nodded, standing to follow Aria through the smoke and pulsing beat of the dance floor to Aria's private room. Glancing up at the dancers, Aria envisioned Tevos up on stage, another trophy to add to her collection. It almost made all those years of humiliation at never knowing her daughter worth it.

When they got the room, Aria locked the door and turned to face Tevos, only to find the Councilor surging with biotic power. Before Aria could block, she found herself launched across the room and pinned to the wall, a biotic fist bruising several of her ribs. In retaliation she launched her own furious assaults, screaming "BITCH!" at the top of her lungs. "NO ONE FUCKS WITH ARIA!"

"I do. Several times, as I remember," Tevos said coldly, brushing Aria's attacks aside.

With renewed fury, Aria launched a massive biotic wave, staggering Tevos. As the Councilor recovered, Aria sprang across the room and hit Tevos with all her considerable biotic might. The Councilor got a barrier up in time to cushion the blow enough so that it wasn't lethal, but it sent her flying across the room to land on the bed. Aria flung herself forward, screaming in rage and pleasure. Tevos was hers.

Her charge was halted with a wall of solid air, and she found herself flung on the floor with Tevos straddling her. Before she could resist further, she felt her limbs lock as Tevos enveloped her in a biotic stasis. Panting, Tevos gave Aria a predatory grin of her own. "Let me tell you something Aria. I am no longer your little blue baby-making sex slave. I'm my own woman now. I've dealt with foes far more treacherous than you, and battled forces that would turn your guts to water and leave your knees quaking in fear. I've had more assassins come after me than I can number, many of them far stronger than you. We ARE going to be in a partnership. And you are going to be the visible, nominal head."

With a grunt, Tevos ripped Aria's clothes off, shredding them with biotic fury. Her own dress she quickly shuffed off, then leaned down to bite Aria in the neck, hard. Just like Aria had once done to Tevos. If Aria could have groaned, she would have. "I wasn't lying when I said I had the asari's best interests at heart. You are a fool. My principles are not so easily swayed. I am going into exile here, but Aethyta is not so vengeful as you. She knows I can still be of some use, and there are few more devious or wise Matriarchs than me. Or ones that are more powerful. You are going to be the left hand of the asari Aria, and I your guiding mind. You are far too conceited and violent to leave to your own devices, but you are known to be that way. The asari can deny your actions, and I will be dismissed as your pawn.

Tevos sat up, stroking Aria's naked flesh, causing goose bumps to erupt. "It is an ignoble end for me, but I was wrong. The asari need strength now, military might and power to defend themselves. And I am not the one to give it. But what service I can give, I shall. And so will you Aria. Not as my slave, but as my partner. Though you shall be on the bottom this time."

Though it had not quite been the reunion she envisioned, Aria found herself enjoying it anyway. So, Tevos and Aethyta thought they could play her for a fool did they? Well they had, for now. She would have her power, but a muzzle and leash to go with it. She would play along, for now. After all, Tevos was much more fun this way. But she would be in control again. This was Omega, and she was Aria. She was Omega, and no one fucked with Aria. Not even handsome blue bitches like Tevos.

_**Vancouver, Earth - Tali'Zorah **_

_**September 7th, 2162**_

"Mommy, do I have to?" Tali whined, clutching her LEGO MINDSTORMS backpack to her chest.

Kleeah sighed and leaned down to touch her faceplate to her daughter's. "Shhh. It will be OK. All little girls have to start kindergarten someday. It's only a few hours. Besides, you already met Mrs. Summers, and you liked her."

Tali made a face that no one could see and frowned up at the Charles Dickens Elementary school sign. She could sort of read it, at least the keelish version of the sign, but she didn't like it.

"Mommy! Come on! Don't cry! I swear this is gonna be the BEST DAY EVER!" Another little girl, this one a human, led a rather more reluctant mother up the sidewalk, her red pigtails bouncing with enthusiasm. "I bet they have ponies an' coloring an' cookies an' friends!"

"Alright Kelly, are you sure you don't need me to stay around? Just for a little bit?"

"No mom, I've got this!" Kelly declared, striking a dramatic pose.

"See," Kleeah said, pointing to the enthused little human. "That girl looks like she's ready to have fun. Why don't you go introduce yourself."

Reluctantly, Tali made her way over to Kelly. "Hi. My name's Tali'Zorah."

"Hi! My name's Kelly Chambers! Are you in Mrs. Summer's class TOO!?"

"Um, yeah..."

"Oh wow! Come on, let's go say hi to the teacher and play! Bye mom!"

Before Tali knew what was happening, Kelly was leading her inside the kindergarten room.

"Good morning you two!" A chipper young human female greeted them as Kelly dragged Tali inside.

"Hi," Tali mumbled, looking down.

"Hi Mrs. Summers! This is my friend, Tali! I think she's shy, but I like her! I'm Kelly!"

"I think I remember you Kelly," Mrs. Summers laughed, bending down to look Tali in the facemask. "And you must be Tali'Zorah! I see you've already made a friend. Why don't the two of you go over to the exploration center, and you can play Legos."

"Oh boy! I love Legos!" Kelly cheered.

Forgetting to be shy at the prospect of Legos Tali hurried over to the bin. The two girls were the first ones there, and they dumped out the box to begin building.

"Let's build a princess party castle!" Kelly declared, starting to clumsily stack blocks together.

"I want to build a ship, like the one my friend Johnny lives on." Tali insisted.

"Ok! Maybe it can be a princess ship! With pink!"

Tali couldn't argue against pink, and soon the two girls were happily building away, not even realizing that they were learning.

_**Arcturus Station - Admiral Hackett**_

_**October 25th, 2162**_

"Quite a view isn't it?" Vexxu asked, peering out at the light of Arcturus. It was safe to look at from this distance, over twice that of what Earth orbited at. That and it was an old, red star, large but dim and fading in glory. Ironic that the vigorous, young races had taken up residence around it.

"Yup," Hackett agreed, then winced. He said that while he was admiring Vexxu. What was this, a clichéd romance story? Well, with the weight of the little box in his dress blues pocket, maybe it was.

Dinner arrived, and Hackett dug into his meal, feeling something tighten in his gut. This was silly, he was a hardened veteran. He had stood before the biggest guns the turian navy had to offer without flinching, he had seen men killed in battle before his eyes and not waivered, and he had helped unite three species. So why did he feel nervous and more than a little scared?

_Because she's worth it, and you're afraid you're no, _a little voice whispered inside. That was pretty much it exactly. A bit silly that he was worrying about one of the most primal and ancient ceremonies any species with a sex drive possessed, but there it was. Now he sat in the crown jewel of engineering and advancement in the entire galaxy, and he was worrying about asking a woman to marry him.

Well, not just any woman. Admiral Vexxu'Herato, the leader of the quarians and the highest ranking officer in the League since Grissom had retired last year. She had standards, and she had known love before. It had taken a while to come out, but apparently she had a bondmate once, a long time ago when she was young, and a child to go with it. But her child had died on the Belari and the husband had succumbed to plague. Life on the fleet had been hard. But now with the new suitless serum, things could be different. Vexxu had taken the serum, though it would be another 20 or more years before she was able to go truly suitless. It had improved their love life though, so no complaints there.

Hackett's train of thought was interrupted by a contented sigh from his intended bondmate. "Ah, I have to say, the cuisine gets better each time we come to the Constellation. Quarian cooking was a lost art, but we seem to be reinventing it in a hurry. A shame it all still has to be shoved in a tube, but it is a far cry from nutrient paste."

That brought a smile to Hackett's lips, and he tipped his glass to Vexxu. "I bet. Human food has stagnated compared to all the new things your people are willing to try. Alien food isn't very popular with us, and it would be hard to get anyway. With the new trading sanctions from the Council and the tariffs we've imposed, it's damn hard to get much of anything from Citadel space."

"You could always try some of mine again," Vexxu teased, and Hackett made a face. That had not been one of his best moments, but he had been in love. In hindsight, it hadn't done anyone any good to have him throwing up for half the night and have the runs the next day all for a swallow of dextro steak.

As was inevitable with the two of them, the topic turned to work. They were in a secured area with plenty of security measures, and while they couldn't discuss anything classified, they could speak without too much worry of being overheard.

"What do you make of Tevos' exile?" Hackett asked, sipping at his wine and playing for time. He had to get this just right, the perfect moment.

Vexxu shrugged. "It's not that surprising giving who she was caught sleeping with, or just who the father of her daughter was. Aria T'loak is a notorious gangster and pirate. Her being exiled and then winding up on Omega is something for the tabloids. It's actually rather a pity, Tevos had a good heart and was always a voice of moderation on the Council, even if her attitude toward us was rather cavalier."

"Her replacement doesn't seem much better in that regard," Hackett snorted. "Aethyta's a lot more aggressive. Her moves toward asari militarization are worrying."

Vexxu just shrugged at that. "It was rather inevitable if you ask me. The asari couldn't stay where they were forever if they wanted to remain a serious contender. The turians can't hope to keep up with us and the krogan. Funny thing about those treaties, they only ban dreadnoughts and krogan construction of warships. There is a distinct lack of text on the construction of military transports or ground-based vehicles. And the krogan excel at building those."

"Not to mention their value as shock troops," Hackett agreed. "They fight nasty on the ground. Mindoir proved that."

"There is still the matter of curing the Genophage though. I can only hope Timmy can deliver on that one, or we're all going to look rather silly," Vexxu sighed.

Hackett smiled faintly. "What you mean by that is that we'll get to reenact the Krogan Rebellions while the Council laughs and gets in its 'I told you so's.'"

"Precisely," Vexxu affirmed, then glanced at her omnitool. "Ah, it's about to start!"

They both turned to look out the window, and in a few moments, they could see it. At first it was only a few discharges, but soon the kinetic barriers around the station began to spark and shimmer in a cascade of color. The station's orbit was taking it through a debris field, one small enough that it was being absorbed on the barriers alone. As they crackled and sparkled in all the colors of the rainbow, Hackett carefully withdrew the small box from his jacket.

Within it lay a small handful of soil, two seeds, and a diamond ring. The soil was an ancient quarian tradition, symbolic of the blessing of the homeworld and the foundation upon which they would build their life together. The seeds were a special variety that would grow and intertwine together, forming a single plant. This represented the two becoming one together, another quarian tradition. The diamond ring was a human invention, but one Hackett would have been loath to leave out.

As the storm reached a crescendo, Hackett coughed loudly and knelt, placing his hand over his heart in the quarian tradition. Vexxu turned, caught sight of the seeds, dirt and ring, and gasped. "Vexxu'Hereto vas Arcturs nar Ideena, you are the love of my life, the one who brings me joy when I see you and sadness when we part. Will you bond yourself to me in marriage?"

Hackett swallowed when he finished, and time seemed to stand still. He cursed the mask that kept him from seeing what was on Vexxu's face. Was it anger, joy? Who knew? For one perfect moment, she was frozen there before him, silhouetted in the blue and gold light of the flaring barriers.

Carefully, Vexxu took the ring from Hackett and slipped it on her finger. "Yes."

Everything snapped back into motion, and the stars spun as the two lovers embraced. A union was formed, one deeper than either could have imaged all those years ago. It went beyond the two of them, to two entire species that had embraced one another. In the end, it would not be strength of arms nor skill at diplomacy nor even economic might that would free the galaxy. It would be love.


	17. Chapter 17

_"This is my rifle. There are many others like it, but this one is mine.__  
__My rifle is my best friend. It is my life. I must master it as I must master my life.__  
__Without me, my rifle is useless. Without my rifle, I am useless. I must fire my rifle true. I must shoot straighter than my enemy, who is trying to kill me. I must shoot him before he shoots me. I will...__  
__My rifle and I know that what counts in this war is not the rounds we fire, the noise of our burst, or the smoke we make. We know that it is the hits that count. We will hit...__  
__My rifle is human, even as I, because it is my life. Thus, I will learn it as a brother. I will learn its weaknesses, its strength, its parts, its accessories, its sights and its barrel. I will keep my rifle clean and ready, even as I am clean and ready. We will become part of each other. We will...__  
__Before God I swear this creed: my rifle and myself are defenders of my country, we are the masters of our enemy, we are the saviors of my life.__  
__So be it, until there is no enemy, but peace. Amen."_

_Rifleman's Creed, USMC_

_"I am the watcher on the wall. I am the one that stands against the chaos of the galaxy. I fight that others may sleep peacefully. I kill that others' hands may remain clean. _

_There is nowhere I cannot go, there is nothing that is not permitted in the name of safety for my people. My soul is blackened and I am cast out, for I am the shadow that stalks the dark places. I am retribution for the weak and vengeance for the strong. Whether in the halls of power or the slums of the poor, I am the master of my domain. _

_First in battle, last in retreat, I will hold the line. I was not born but made, on a hundred battlefields in a thousand desperate situations. I have triumphed over all, for I am the best there ever was and the best there ever will be. I am death, I am destruction, I am salvation and ruin. _

_I am a Council Spectre, and on my watch, the Citadel will never fall. May the enemies of order know only fear, may those that would shatter our accord know only death. For I am a Spectre, and I shall man the wall."_

_- Spectre's Oath_

_**Eletania, Hercules System - Saren Arterius**_

_**March 15th, 2162**_

Coming in on a ballistic course wasn't exactly the most dashing or interesting way to sneak up on your foes but it was the most practical. And for a mission directly from a Citadel councilor, even the asari one, Saren was willing to endure the weeks of boredom to complete his mission. Councilor Aethyta was new; Tevos had been the asari councilor for all of Saren's life, and his father's and grandfather's lives. But she was dynamic. She saw problems, and she acted. Tevos had been all too willing to wait and try to reason with savages. And what had that got her? Now she was the pleasure slave of a pirate queen.

Or at least, that was the cover story. Reality was rather different. It was Aria who was Tevos' pet, and Tevos was now playing hardball.

"You are to go to the planet Eletania in the Hercules System," Tevos had informed him. Theoretically, she was giving him a private dance as a favor from Aria. Saren had executed some pirates that had been trying to steal from her, and now she was returning the favor. In reality, Tevos was the asari's new black ops director. One who had an eye for Spectres willing to play fast and loose with the rules. "Their colony claims to be a simple mining operation, but the truth is they've stumbled on a prothean archive. We need that data, and the League cannot be allowed to keep it. Get the data, by whatever means necessary."

And so, here Saren sat in his drop pod. The wait was almost over. He checked his weapons and gear one last time. Everything was ready. Saren allowed himself a grin as his ship hit atmosphere. After five years, it was time for revenge.

Saren's ship's VI hit the planet's communication center first. He had planted bombs on the comm buoy on the way in, and detonated them just as he lit off his engines. Next was their military compound. He didn't have big guns on his ship, but he didn't need them. Instead of blasting away at the compound, the VI shot down a satellite. Thanks to Saren's earlier calculations, the remains of the satellite dropped right onto the military's main installation. Eletania's atmosphere contained microbes toxic to the colonists. Therefore, the colony was contained in energy fields to keep out the deadly microbes. The generator powering those fields was Saren's next target.

As soon as his ships VI hit the satellite, Saren's drop pod was released, aimed just beyond the kinetic barrier around the colony. The ride down was tense. If the garrison had survived they would surely destroy him while he was helpless. Thankfully, the VI's strike calculations had been precise and efficient; no flak bursts or missiles filled the air.

Crashing into the ground, Saren ejected from the pod, using his HUD to scan his surroundings. He was on target, just a few meters from the colony entrance. He could see panicked civilians running around behind the barrier, and several krogan striding forward meaningfully. That could be bad, krogan were hard to kill, and they were always dangerous.

With a grunt, Saren hauled out the shield disruptor he had brought and dragged it the few meters to the shield. It wouldn't be able to bring the whole thing down, but the disruptor would create a temporary hole he could leap through. The krogan saw what he was doing and found cover, not to hide from the blast, but to give themselves a better field of fire. Saren was impressed. They weren't as dumb as they looked.

He fired the shield disrupter and dashed through the opening, throwing grenades and shooting as he went. Subtlety was useless at this point. There were no humans or quarians close enough to the breach to go into shock from the air, and the krogan were pretty much immune to the microbes. Like they were with most toxins. Rounds splattered off his barriers, and Saren was forced to seek cover. The closest was occupied by two large krogan, which suited him just fine. First he threw a flashbang to blind them, then he got close, his pistol to the first krogan's head. At this range, a kinetic barriers wouldn't do any good. He fired twice, and the krogan slumped, a charred wreck. Anticipating there would be krogan, Saren had loaded his weapons with incendiary rounds. That was the best way to counter their regeneration.

The other krogan had recovered, and sent Saren sprawling with a vicious head butt. He instinctively responded with a hard kick to the krogan's quad, then fired up at its belly three times. The krogan kept coming though, and Saren rolled out of the way as a massive foot crashed down where his head had been. Drawing his combat knife, Saren leapt up and drove it into the krogan's thigh, straight into a major artery. Not pausing, he brought up his pistol and fired into the krogan's side, dropping the beast.

Ducking down, Saren caught his breath and allowed his shields to recharge. There were two more krogan, and human and quarian defenders were rapidly arriving. This was no time to stand and fight. Saren tossed out several flashbangs, then activated his stealth unit and dashed away allowing his light bending camo to hide him. In the confusion, only a few people got in his way, and none of them had barriers. Saren dispatched them quickly and efficiently, savoring the spilled primitive and suit rat blood. But it wasn't enough. It would never be enough.

The generators were hardened, but Saren had brought several eezo charges that would blow them all sky high. With the generators destroyed, it would only be a matter of time before everyone in the colony perished. And Saren would be more than willing to help them along. When he arrived at the bunker holding the generators, only a handful of guards were in his way. Saren shot the first right in the face mask. She dropped, screaming in agony as she burst into flames. A human rushed forward to aid her, but Saren grabbed him and slit his throat, dropping him beside his companion. The last two guards put up more of a fight, actually managing to drain Saren's shields. Unfortunately for them, that was also all the time it took for Saren to get close enough to plant his knife in the quarian's chest and shoot the human in the head.

Wiping his knife off on the dead human's clothing, Saren strolled into the generator room and began to plant charges.

"A turian. Probably a Council Specter. You know, maybe moving to this snooze-fest of a colony wasn't such a bad idea after all," a voice rumbled from behind Saren.

He spun and fired, the shot harmlessly bouncing off the krogan's biotic barrier. As the krogan hefted a massive hammer, "oh shit" ran through Saren's head. A krogan battlemaster.

"We're supposed to remake ourselves you know. Be guardians and protectors. I've got a job teaching human and quarian children how to survive in a hostile environment," the krogan observed as it moved forward, it's hammer crackling with biotic power. "Makes you think. Here we are, trying to build something, and you Council bastards want to come in and tear it up. Pisses me right off."

With a roar, the krogan charged, swinging for Saren with all its might. That hammer was death, and the Spectre knew it. He desperately rolled out of the way and fired his gun until it overheated as he came up. The rest of his shots had about as much effect as the first had, so Saren cloaked and played for time as the weapon cooled. If only it had more stopping power...

"Running and hiding? Coward! I thought you turians considered yourselves warriors!" The battlemaster sneered, striding through the generator room.

As he scampered up to the rafters above, Saren carefully readied his last grenade. He was only going to have one chance at this.

"Keep running Spectre. I'll find you and kill you. Then we'll drag your corpse before the Council. How long do you think the elcor or hanar will cling to your folly when they see a murderer of children and a terrorist wearing Council colors?"

Saren rolled his eyes. Coming from a krogan, the race that had invented brutal sadism in warfare, that was almost humorous. He waited patiently until the krogan was right below him, then dropped down on the beast's back and stabbed his knife deep into the krogan's neck. As the battlemaster bellowed in pain and anger, Saren shoved the last flash bang deep into the bloody hole he had carved and sprang away. He ducked as the krogan's head exploded in a shower of gore and light.

Wiping himself clean, Saren finished setting the charges, then sprinted out of the generator room. A few colonists moved to oppose him, but once the field went down the humans choked and died. The quarians wouldn't last much longer. With their battle master dead, the krogan would be disorganized and unable to form an effective resistance. With such light opposition, Saren had no problems infiltrating the colonies administrative center. There he set the eezo core to overload and detonate, covering his tracks. The League would suspect foul play, but all the evidence they would have was a destroyed comm buoy and a crater where a colony once stood.

As he strode out of the building and called for his ship, Saren callously executed a quarian who was clutching the remains of a human child, bloated and disfigured by exposure to the toxic atmosphere. Spreading his mandibles in pleasure, Saren stepped onto his ship. It was a good start to his revenge. But it was only a start.

_**Olor, Citadel Space - Zaeed Massani**_

_**May 2nd, 2162**_

"Goddamn smartest kid I've ever met. You'll like him Anderson. You're transferring onto the Tai Shan aren't you?"

The officer nodded, smiling at Zaeed. "That I am. After this mission anyway. You really think this Johnny Shepard is something special? I figured he'd be a spoiled brat, what with all the attention he's gotten in the news vids. The golden child of humanity."

"Hell no!" Zaeed declared, spitting on the deck for emphasis. "He's smart, works hard, and knows his weapons. He's N material for sure. Goddamn bosh'tet is a better marksman then any of these maggots here anyway. Kid's good."

"Oh I don't know about that," Berr'Reegar chuckled from behind Zaeed. "My Kal could give him a run for his money. He's a natural with a gun. My family lives on Watson, lots of open space for my wife to take Kal out to go and practice."

"Hey, Shepard trained on my range," Zaeed laughed. "I think that beats going out and shooting goddamn rocks with his mum any day of the week."

"Time to target, five minutes," the pilot announced over the speaker.

The jovial atmosphere evaporated, and Zaeed slapped on his helmet. "Guess it's time to see how good the two of us shoot, hey Reegar?" he growled.

"Damn right," the quarian drawled.

"Good, I was getting bored. You three sound like females, always talking of hatchlings," Jorgal Leerg snorted. Standing and taking a hold of one of the handles, the massive krogan cradled his Revenant squad support weapon in his arms.

"What's wrong with sounding like a female?" Oro'Veskar demanded, hefting her Widow rifle.

Leerg just leered at her, and before a fight could break out Zaeed stepped between the two N's. "You two bosh'tet's focus up. In case you hadn't noticed, we're about to drop into a hostile area. Save the aggression for the slimies."

"Yes sir," the they chorused, and Zaeed moved back to Anderson's side.

"Goddamn bosh'tet's," he growled.

Anderson shrugged. "Pre-mission nerves. We all deal with them somehow." Turning to face the others, Anderson addressed them in a calm, even voice. Zaeed was impressed. For an officer, Anderson was an alright sort.

"Listen up people! We are to inflict minimum casualties, especially with regard to the civilians. Some may be unavoidable but even if these are aliens we are to treat them as non-combatants."

Zaeed and Leerg scowled at that, but they nodded. That was standard operating procedure for the League. It wouldn't do to piss off the Council as the League flat out could not compete militarily or economically with the larger Council races, though the gap was narrowing.

"Our objective is this research facility. It's owned by a company named Czerka Corp, but that's just a front. It's an STG operations plant, where they are working on some kind of break through stealth technology. Our mission is to retrieve the data and blow the facility. You all heard what the Council did to Eletania. This is our retribution. But we do it clean, understand?"

They all nodded, and Zaeed growled "goddamn right." There was an escalating shadow war between the Council and the League. Nothing had happened out in the open yet, nor was it likely to any time soon. Anderson's squad of Ns were all disguised as Blue Sun mercenaries, a band that operated in Citadel space with Citadel approval. They were a mixed bag of humans, krogan, batarians, and turians. A nasty bunch, and one Zaeed had tangled with a time or two. They were no match for professional soldiers, but they were skilled and this was the sort of job they might pull, given an opportunity.

Their battered shuttle passed over the drop zone and the hatch popped open. Zaeed ran through the open door and crossed his hands over his chest, pointing his feet straight down as he gritted his teeth. This part was always dicey. He trusted his equipment and had never seen a drop field actually fail, but he had heard stories about ones that did. Every N had. There wasn't much left of those bastards but a wet smear.

Thankfully, today wasn't his day to buy the farm, and Zaeed made it down intact. He checked his HUD and sprinted toward the rally point, sticking to the shadows of the colony's industrial wasteland. The rusted frames of old buildings were hidden behind the thick smog of pollution, and Zaeed was grateful for his helmet filters as he splashed through water with thick rainbow blobs floating in it. This sort of toxicity reminded him of growing up in the slums of Earth. Hilarious that another race had gone to the stars only to spread their own filth.

Zaeed was the second to the rally point, behind the ever swift Oro. "See anything?" he asked quietly, drawing his N7 Valkyrie, which naturally he had dubbed Jessie. The original was long gone, replaced in the endless equipment upgrade he had received over the years. One thing Zaeed had learned in the corps, you could always get a new gun, but getting a new man was a pain.

"No obvious activity, but I spot a dozen camouflaged sensor platforms and a guard nest. That place is a fortress," Oro answered as she gazed through the scope of her rifle.

"Well, then it's a good thing you brought a krogan," Leerg chuckled splashing into the hole behind Zaeed.

Anderson and Reegar arrived together, the officer drawing a small spotter's scope from his pouch and taking a long look at the STG facility before passing the scope to Reegar. "What do you think Berr?"

"Hmm. Tough nut to crack, but not impossible," Berr mused. "I think Leerg has the right idea. Go in from the front and distract them, while Oro and I sneak in from behind. We get the data and rig the place to blow while they're distracted. Nice and easy."

"Massani?" Anderson asked, rubbing his chin.

"I say we screw the theatrics and hit them hard and fast," Zaeed stated. "Get to them before they can destroy the data and kill anyone who get'\s in our way. Splitting our forces leaves us vulnerable to a counterattack."

Anderson continued to study the facility for a moment, then nodded. "We don't have time to screw around, but a frontal assault is suicide. See that building over there?" Anderson pointed to a tall, decaying structure to the north west. "If we were to blow that in such a way that it collapsed into their compound, we could go through the hole and grab the data before they even knew what happened."

"Aye, aye sir," the N's chorused. Creeping behind Anderson, they made their way to building. A few salarian civilians were milling about, and Zaeed glanced at Anderson. "Orders sir?"

"Oro, can you trigger the fire alarm?" Anderson asked. "Or fake some sort of alarm that would cause an evacuation?"

The infiltrator nodded and cloaked, her disembodied voice whispering, "Absolutely. Won't be a minute."

Waiting was always the worst part of the mission in Zaeed's mind, but he forced himself to steady his breathing, taking a drink of water and a bite of energy bar while he did so. There was no point in expending any more energy than he had to, and you never knew how long it would be before you got a chance for another drink. It was like he told his jarheads: dehydration was one of your worst dangers on the battlefield, especially in a place as warm and humid as Olor was. It could slow your reactions at a time when you needed to be at your best, and that could be fatal.

Before long, the building's alarms began to blare and panicked civilians began to streamed out of the structure. "Go go go!" Anderson ordered. The N squad moved forward and began to set explosives at key structural points. Oro had already slapped on few charges, and only minutes after the alarm had begun to blare the N's left the building as well.

"Do we wait for the civilians to disperse?" Berr asked, holding up the detonator.

Anderson shook his head. "No. We don't have time for that. We've avoided as many casualties as possible, but the mission is still the priority. Blow the building."

No matter how many explosions he saw, Zaeed would always enjoy them. The building didn't erupt in a fireball like it would have in an action vid, but a massive shockwave shredded the building's supports and blew away the civilians huddled in front of the building. It was too bad, but they were just aliens, and Anderson had done what he could. The building collapsed, tilting over and crashing into the STG facility's wall, sending up a massive cloud of dust. Before the building had collapsed completely the team was already in motion. They took off at a dead run through the wreckage while the dust and noise still obscured their approach.

Zaeed vaulted over the rubble and into the compound, firing at anything that moved. Anyone inside the STG facility was an enemy combatant and would be treated as such. He took down two salarians who were rushing toward the wreckage, then covered Leerg as he bowled forward into the corridor the salarians had come from. The team stuck together as they advanced through the compound. Oro and Berr stayed at the back and acted as a vanguard, while Zaeed, Anderson and Leerg covered each other while they moved forward.

Alarms blared throughout the facility and security doors slammed shut, but the team was ready for that. One thing about security doors; the walls around them were usually not as well armored. With rapid proficiency, Zaeed and Anderson took turns strapping det cord to the walls and blowing holes in them, bypassing the doors entirely. It allowed them to get the drop on the STG the first few times, and made their path through the facility hard to predict.

They hit several labs and grabbed anything that looked important before arriving at the main server. Oro quickly set up a feed and began to download anything and everything she could.

"Two minutes, then we get out," Anderson barked, taking up a fire position that covered Oro. Zaeed crouched at the doorway, sending blasts down the hall then ducking back when his shield drained. The STG may have been surprised, but that didn't seem to slow them down. They began advancing down the hall with riot shields, preventing Zaeed from getting a clear shot.

But it was too late. Detonating charges he had set, Berr created an exit point. The team activated their grav belts and floated up onto of the roof as their shuttle screamed in. They climbed aboard, and were gone before the STG had managed to muster a full response. From the time they had blown the building to evac, the entire operation had taken less than 13 minutes. Zaeed didn't relax until the shuttle left the atmosphere and rabbited to FTL, but he couldn't help smiling as they shot through the upper atmosphere. A good mission; one where everyone went home. Except for the slimies.

_**The Citadel - Zaal'Koris**_

_**May 9th, 2162**_

Sipping at his tea, Zaal luxuriated in being suitless. Oh sure, he was on more drugs than was strictly healthy, but it was a great way to flaunt his power and the technological prowess of the League. Julieus was obviously doing his best not to betray his irritation, but both he and Zaal knew the real reason for this meeting. And it wasn't to discuss trade arrangements.

"Did you hear about the regrettable accident on Olor last week? Dozens of civilians slaughtered, apparently by League races," Julieus commented, taking a drink of his own tea.

Zaal waved his hand dismissively, his eyes glowing brighter with rage. "Oh, the Blue Suns are hardly affiliated with the League, just as I am sure the turian responsible for the destruction of our colony on Eletainia wasn't a Council Spectre."

"Of course not, he was a rogue pirate," Julieus answered, which was shorthand for saying "go stick something sharp up your ass."

"Just as we do not condone the Blue Sun's misplaced nationalism," Zaal agreed, which was his way of saying "same to you, pal."

Glancing around, Julieus frowned, then set a small device on the table and activated it. A nearly inaudible hum filled the air, some sort of jamming. "Zaal, I'm going to speak frankly with you. This has to stop. If we continue down this path, war is inevitable. And if your 'misplaced nationals' have managed to decode what I think the STG was, then we both know that war is going to result in our mutual destruction."

"I'm not sure what you mean," Zaal answered, and for once he meant it.

Julieus sighed. "Rail guns."

Zaal raised an eyebrow, still unsure.

"Oh come off it. We're both working on building mass relays. It's an open secret at this point. If I figured it out and I'm not even an ordinance technician, you people have too." Julieus growled, his subharmonics increasing in intensity.

Now Zaal knew what he was talking about. As it turned out, mass relay's had some sort of inhibitor preventing certain cargos from transferring. They also prevented a transfers destination from being a planet or other celestial body. The new relays would posses no such restrictions. So if someone were to transfer say, a small asteroid right into a planet, it would be devastating. On the order of a global extinction at best. The image from that human vid, Star Wars, came to mind. It wouldn't be quite the same, a planet wouldn't just explode, but it's crust would crack and its entire surface be reduced to ash and molten rock.

Julieus pushed forward a paper, his signature already affixed to it. "I can't speak for the salarians or the asari, or really even for the turians. But this has me worried. I signed up to protect the galaxy, not destroy it. This paper would bind our peoples in such a way that all mass relays would be required to contain inhibitors preventing them from being used directly as weapons of war. If a war were to break out and we had such weapons, the Hierarcy would not hesitate to use them. I think you would hesitate, but as soon as we destroyed any of your planets, you would respond in kind. It would be the annihilation of both our peoples. I've signed this without the knowledge of Palaven or the rest of the Council, but my signature is binding."

The turian took a deep breath, then looked directly into Zaal's eyes. "This will be the end of me. I'll be exiled, executed, or expected to remove myself. But to protect my people and my allies, I will do it. Can you say the same, Zaal'Koris?"

For a moment, Zaal hesitated. The same was likely to be true for him. But Julieus was right. If a war did break out and relays were used as weapons, it would be the death of every major race in the galaxy. Nothing would be left but ashes, and countless garden worlds would be lost, stifling the galaxy for an age. Zaal picked up the pen and signed. It wasn't the end of the world just yet.

_**The Citadel - Councilor Aethyta**_

"... and since I signed this in my capacity as Citadel Councilor, the mass relay de-weaponization pact is binding for all our species," Julieus stated, glaring at Aethyta and Ikki and daring them to challenge him.

When he was finished, Aethyta stood and walked over to Julieus. The turian stiffened and braced himself, closing his eyes and muttering a prayer consigning his soul to the spirits. Funny, Aethyta had thought he didn't believe in such things. But she embraced him anyway. "Today, you have done a great thing Julieus. I didn't think you had it in you."

Jumping to her feet, Ikki glared at the other councilors "Are you insane? The both of you! Do you think this will stop the League from weaponizing relays?"

Aethyta shrugged then pressed a button to call for wine. This was a time to celebrate. "Damned if I know, but it's the best possible thing we could have done. I'll be honest, I hadn't even thought about it. Thank the goddess for turians and crafty minds eh?"

"You mean you approve of this?" Julieus' mandibles raised in astonishment.

"Damn right I do," Aethyta growled. "The point of this confrontation with the League is not to blow ourselves up. It's to prove who is best suited to lead the galaxy. And I think you just put in a damn good argument that it's us. The League never would have come up with a plan like this, one that ensures peace and stability instead of careening towards destruction. War is bad enough when it's fought with fleets and soldiers. When you start blowing up planets full of civilians, that's not war, that's murder on an interstellar scale."

"Wars should be fought to win," Ikki complained. "There are no rules."

"There should be," Julieus snarled, his mandibles lowering in anger. "You fight to win, to remove your opponent's ability and will to continue to fight. But you also fight to protect your own, to ensure the peace and safety of the galaxy. If both sides have weapons capable of vaporizing the other within moments of the start, there are no winners. Only losers."

Aethyta nodded her agreement. "Indeed. This is about preserving our future. And we've just taken a large step in that direction. Shame though."

"What is?" Ikki spat. "You've already neutered us."

"Julieus is probably going to have to kill himself when the Hierarchy hears about this," Aethyta mused.

But that didn't really matter, not in the long run. Aethyta would have done the same in Julieus's place, even signed that paper herself if he had brought it to her. The point of having power was to protect those who didn't have it, to guide the galaxy upon the best course. And Aethyta was going to honor Julieus's legacy, and ensure the Council continued to do just that.

_Authors Note:_

_By popular demand, next chapter is all Johnny and Tali, all the time. Now with extra cuteness!_


	18. Chapter 18

_"If you could only sense how important you are to the lives of those you meet; how important you can be to the people you may never even dream of. There is something of yourself that you leave at every meeting with another person."  
― Fred Rogers_

_**ILS Tai Shan - David Anderson **_

_**March 8th, 2163**_

"Ooof!" Johnny slammed into the mat, but bounded right back up on his feet, assuming the guard position.

"Good. Keep your guard up," Anderson coached. "Now, how do you attack me?"

Rushing in, then feinting left, Johnny kicked hard with his right foot, aiming for his opponent's kneecap. He didn't even get close. Before his foot could connect, Anderson's leg pivoted out of the way and the marine caught Johnny's leg and lifted him off the mat.

"Good reflexes, but your still telegraphing your moves." With a simple toss, the marine lieutenant flipped Johnny back onto the mat.

Springing to his feet again, Johnny immediately assumed guard position, panting from the exertion. His nine-year-old body was tough, but even as big and strong as he was, Johnny didn't have the stamina an adult did.

"I think that's enough for now. Come on, they've got ice cream at the mess. My treat."

"Yes sir!" Johnny shouted, stripping off his custom sparring pads and following his martial arts instructor.

Out of all the people on the Tai Shan, aside from his mother, of course, Johnny looked up to Senior Lieutenant David Anderson the most. The dark skinned London native was a legendary N7, the Independent League's answer to the Council's Spectre program. Unlike Spectres, N7s were a decidedly military operation, with strict oversight and far less freedom to cause unregulated havoc. On the flip side, they were also much better equipped and funded. The Council's mantra was that Spectres were born, not made. The League believed that N7s were trained.

And train they did. Anderson was built like a boxer, but could run all day and all night with only a canteen of water and no food. He could take a krogan in hand-to-hand, operate any weapon system used by any race in known space, disarm a bomb, arm a bomb, barter a volus under the table and outfox a salarian. Not to mention drink any of those species under the table, but Johnny didn't need to know that.

Like Zaeed Mussani before him, Anderson had taken Johnny under his wing and trained him in anything the boy was interested in, which was anything and everything the N7 knew.

"Smartest goddamn kid I've ever met," Zaeed had told Anderson. "Fast too, and tough. He's got incredible hand-eye coordination, and his sense of balance is uncanny. You could drop the kid blindfolded in zero g, flip him around three times and he could STILL find the airlock he just left. He's N7 material if I've ever seen it."

"We'll have to see about that," Was all Anderson had had to say, until he had met the boy.

Johnny was everything Zaeed had said more. What Anderson liked about the boy best was his bearing. He was friendly, charming, respectful and self-assured, even at his tender age. He was a natural leader as well, and after only a week on the Tai Shan it was Johnny who chose what the ship's pups, the children on board, did. He was fair minded too, always making sure everyone got a turn, and willing to sacrifice so others could get what they wanted.

He could be a little shit too, Anderson had to admit. When he'd decided that another boy was bullying a smaller and weaker classmate, Johnny had cornered the young quarian and beat the stuffing out of him. Despite the fact that the quarian had two years and nearly five kilos on Johnny. What was really incredible was that Prazza and Johnny were now best friends. In fact, if Prazza's mum hadn't needed him to look after his younger sister that rest cycle, the young quarian would have been right there with Johnny on the practice mat.

Johnny got a bowl of chocolate ice cream with sprinkles, and sat down across from Anderson, who contented himself with a cup of coffee.

"How'd I do tonight?" Johnny asked around a mouthful of ice cream.

Laughing, Anderson handed Johnny a napkin. "Slow down boy, that ice cream isn't going anywhere."

"But iths sho good!"

"Yeah, and if you keep that up, you'll get an ice cream headache."

"Yes sir."

"Anyway, you did good tonight. Don't get cocky, there is room for improvement. And don't push yourself too hard. You're young. Wouldn't do to get hurt before you make something of yourself."

"I'm gonna be an N7, just like you Lieutenant!" Johnny grinned, his face plastered with ice cream.

"Ha! You've got a long way to go before then, kid," Anderson chuckled. "But if you keep training, get good grades in school, and listen to your mum, you'll make it."

"Wow! I just wonder if I want to be a soldier like Gunnery Sergeant Mussani, or an Infiltrator like you sir!"

"Take your time. You're good at math, maybe you'll be a combat engineer."

Suddenly, the boy winced and grabbed his head.

"Ice cream headache?"

"Ugh. Maybe. I've been getting them a lot. Mom says it's because of all the falls I take in training."

As Johnny looked up at Anderson, the N7 noticed something. "Johnny, you're eyes. They're quite blue."

"What? No, I've got hazel eyes. Like mom."

"Show my your hand. How's that headache?"

"Worse." Johnny lifted his hands, palm up, and Anderson grabbed them. He felt a faint tingling sensation.

Without hesitation, Anderson scooped the boy up in his arms and started bellowing for a medic. In moments, the boy was sobbing as his headache intensified.

"God damn it, how we could we not catch this! When's your next physical son?"

"Three weeks. I missed my last one, my mom and I switched ships."

"Bosh'tet!" Anderson growled as the trauma team rushed in to the room.

"He's undergoing biotic shock," Anderson barked as the ensign strapped Johnny onto a hoverboard for transport.

"You certain?" the tech queried, frowning down at the boy. "No indication of biotic potential in his records."

"I've seen it before, there's no mistaking it. Must have gotten missed along the way."

"Damn. Alright, the doc can take care of this. Hmmm. Pupils aren't too dilated. Relax kid, it just feels like you're gonna die. You'll be fine."

"I want my mom," Johnny sobbed, writhing against the restraints.

Putting a gentle hand on the boy's head, Anderson soothed, "She's on her way son. Hang tight."

"Biotic flare up under control. All vital signs normal," The doctor stated. "Beginning cut for biotic amp insertion."

Just as the surgical laser began its incision, a gasping Hannah Shepard burst into the observation room.

"Anderson? Anderson! What's going on with my son!" she demanded, storming over to the much larger Lieutenant with murder in her eyes.

"Easy Commander, your son's a biotic. He had a flare-up after practice. All that physical exercise must have triggered it. He's been complaining of headaches?"

"Johnny's a biotic?" Hannah hurried over and put her face against the glass, pressing closer to see what was happening.

Anderson walked over and stood next to the Lieutenant Commander. Not too close; she was likely to gut him if she thought he had hurt her son. "Yes. I noticed it when he started complaining of a headache. His eyes had changed color and his hands were tingling with a mass effect field. He's going to be just fine. Doctor Nevvi'Tayyo is an expert on human physiology."

Biting her lip, Hannah nodded, not taking her eyes from the glass for the entire two hour operation.

_**ILS Tai Shan- Johnny Shepard**_

Slowly, Johnny opened his eyes. His head felt fuzzy, and he struggled to focus. "Mom?" he croaked.

"I'm here." Pressure on his hand.

"Happened?" Johnny croaked.

"You had a biotic flare-up," Mom whispered. "The doctor put in an L3 implant. You're going to be just fine kiddo."

"Feels funny."

"You're on a lot of medicine right now, but the doctor says you're going to be fine. You should thank Lieutenant Anderson; it was his quick thinking that identified your condition."

"Vanguard."

"I'm sorry?"

"Be a Vanguard."

Tears came to Hannah's eyes, and she squeezed her son's hand again. "Go to sleep, my little N7. Training's over for the day."

"'Kay."

With that, Johnny drifted off to sleep, dreaming of ripping salarians to pieces and saving a cheering Tali from a horde of vampire-like asari and monstrous turians.

_**Jump Zero - Johnny Shepard**_

_**March 28th, 2163**_

"Recruit 3rd Class John Vanderloo Shepard nar Arcturus reporting for duty ma'am," Johnny stating, saluting his new teacher. Hard to believe that only two weeks ago he had been on the Tai with mom and eating ice cream with Lieutenant Anderson. Now he was a biotic. It was so cool.

His teacher laughed softly and returned the salute. "Recruit 3rd class eh?" Shali'Otorus murmured. "I'm afraid that I'm not familiar with that rank. I thought that the lowest League rank was just Recruit."

"I um, joined early," Johnny offered, blushing slightly. "Gunnery Chief Massani gave me the rank."

"I see," Shali chuckled. "Then you won't have a problem here. We've divided the students into teams. You'll be joining Dragon Army. Kaidan here will be your squad leader."

The older boy stepped forward and smiled, extending his hand to Johnny. "Nice to meet you. We're looking forward to having some fresh blood."

Taking the hand in a firm grip, Johnny took a moment to study Kaidan. He had an easy smile and a rather laid back posture, someone who it would be easy to get along with. "I look forward to training with you, sir," Johnny said politely.

"I think you're gonna do just fine, Recruit 3rd class," Kaidan laughed. "You sound like you've even read the book already. We'll have you part of the jeesh in no time."

Johnny frowned and glanced up at Shali. "Jeesh?"

She nodded. "A bit of a tradition we have here at Battle School. The original drafters of the program were fans of an old Earth novel called Ender's Game. It's premise is rather similar to what we do here, though we're training jedi, not necessarily commanders and tacticians. We do offer those courses for students with the aptitude."

Now Johnny was really confused. "What's a jedi? I thought this was a school for biotics."

"Oh it is," Kaidan assured him, "but we decided to nickname ourselves jedi. You know, like in the old Star Wars vids."

"You sound like you've got some catching up to do you two," Shali laughed. "I'll leave you in Kaidan's capable hands. Welcome to Battle School, John."

Kaidan helped Johnny with his bags, showing off his biotics talents by levitating them a few centimeters off the ground. "How long have you know you were a potential?" Kaidan asked as he led the way through the corridors.

"About three weeks actually," Johnny explained. "I had an attack after a sparring session with Lieutenant Anderson, and that's when they realized I had biotic potential. It got missed somehow over the years."

Nodding, Kaidan flexed his biotic muscles as he lifted Johnny's suitcase nearly a meter off the ground. "Yeah, that's actually pretty common, most kids don't even know until the flare-ups start. Me, I started having attacks, got an implant, then got bundled off here two years ago. Best thing that ever happened to me really."

"Do you miss your parents?" Johnny asked. He was already kind of missing his mom. They'd been apart for extended times before, but he always knew she was coming back. Now he was going to be lucky to see her once or twice a year.

"Eh, kind of," Kaidan admitted. "At first anyway. But I haven't seen them in over a year. They think I'm some sort of freak. But I'm a master now, so I can handle it."

"A master?" Johnny quizzed.

"Yeah, it's something the kids came up with, not the teachers. My friend, Hixi, he's totally a fan of the Star Wars vids. Has all 20 of them, even the hokey ones from the 20th century. Anyway, Dragon team and Asp team were all watching them after a match in the gym, and someone pointed out that we were sort of like the hero, Luke Skywalker. Cause we can movie stuff with our mind and it's our job to fight the bad aliens and stuff. So we decided we were gonna be jedi. I'm a master, which means I've got good control and can pass a bunch of tests. Everyone starts off as a padawan and gets paired with a master. Once the master thinks the padawan is ready, the team gives them some tests. Like how much you can lift, using your biotics to solve certain problems, fine control, that sort of thing.

"It's way cool cause this was all our idea, ya know? The teachers don't do anything but observe, to make sure no one gets hurt during the tests or anything. Well, except grand master Shali, we inducted her into the order cause she's way cool, and about the strongest biotic ever. She's awesome, you should hear some of her stories sometime! She was totally on the ILS Nuts!"

"I know. My mom was too," Johnny commented.

Kaidan nearly dropped the bags. "No way!"

"Yeah, my mom's Hannah Shepard," Johnny explained.

"Are you serious? You mean you're THE Johnny Shepard? Like from the vids and stuff?" Kaidan asked, incredulous.

Frowning, Johnny shrugged. "I don't know of any other Johnny Shepards. I mean yeah, kids played me in the vids about first contact and stuff, but honestly I don't really remember any of that. I was only three at the time. I remember when my mom came back off the Nuts. I was so happy to see her, I thought she had left forever."

"Dude, that is way cool." Kaidan smiled, slapping Johnny on the back. "You're totally gonna have to tell us some stories about the Nuts. I mean, your mom talks about that stuff right?"

"Not really," Johnny said, frowning. "She doesn't hide the fact that it happened, but she doesn't really like to talk about combat or her time as a POW. And I don't really want to ask, 'cause honestly I'm kinda scared. I mean, I know I was like a baby and all, but I was scared. It was almost as bad as when Uncle Rael died."

"Rael? As in, Rael'Zorah vas Belari? He's your uncle?"

"He was," Johnny agreed. "I still vid comm Babytali and Auntie Kleeah every couple of weeks. Actually, they're supposed to visit me in a couple of weeks, once I've settled in."

"Wow, do you know like every famous person ever?" Kaidan laughed. "Next you're going to tell me that Gunnery Chief Massani is Mad Bomber Massani."

"He prefers the name 'Only Man Alive' Massani," Johnny answered deanpan. "And man, does Gunny ever have some awesome stories! This one time, he ambushed a turian patrol with his gun, Jessie, and-"

As the two boys walked through the halls of Battle School, laughing and swapping stories, Johnny was already starting to feel at home. His mom might be a thousand lightyears away, but he was still safe, still among friends. The League took care of its own, and Johnny Shepard was on the list.

_**Jump Zero - Tali'Zorah**_

_**April 11th, 2163**_

"That is too cool!" Tali whispered, her mask pressed up against the viewport as Jump Zero grew ever larger.

"Tali! Let me see!" Kuurk protested, trying to shove his big sister out of the way. Tali held the little squirming quarian up to see out the view port, smiling as she did so.

"Do you see it Kuurk?" she asked.

He nodded vigorously, knocking his visor hard on the viewport. He didn't seem to mind though, but continued to stare rapturously at the station. "Wow!'

Glancing behind herself, Tali smiled at the sight of Amby holding Gola up so she could see as well. Tali tried hard to be as good a big sister to Gola, Kuurk, Davey, and Leewie as Amby was to her. Sometimes it was hard, especially when Kuurk or Gola took one of Tali's toys or when Davey or Leewie cried for a long time, but Tali thought she did a pretty good job.

Though sometimes she wasn't sure. Daddy was always saying "Is that would Rael would have done, Tali?" or things like that. Tali wasn't really sure. She remembered being very sad that her quarian daddy had died, but that was a long time ago. She was still sad sometimes, but she had lots of parents still, and her life was pretty good so she wouldn't have thought about it that much, except daddy was always talking about what Rael would have done.

Her train of thought was interrupted as the shuttle docked, and Tali scrambled for the front with the rest of the children, her mommies riding herd on their little band. Tali was up to two brothers and four sisters. Even with two mommies it seemed like quarian mommy and human mommy were always tired. Tali wasn't quite sure why though.

The Zorah-Sheridan army burst into the hanger and Tali promptly did a flying tackle on the boy waiting for them. "JOHNNY!" she squealed.

"Hey Babytali," Johnny said, smiling despite the fact that Tali had knocked him flat on his back. "You've gotten pretty big."

"I'm not a baby!" Tali giggled, though that was a pretty standard response between the two of them. Johnny had been calling her Babytali for about as long as she could remember, maybe even longer.

She let him up, and Johnny greeted the rest of the clan. He'd never met Leewie or Davey in person, though he had seen them over vid comm. Tali made sure to introduce them, her duty as their big sister. She wanted to make sure she did what daddy Rael would have done.

Once Johnny hugged everyone, he introduced his friends. "This is Jedi Master Kaidan Alenko, my squad leader in Dragon Army. And this is my friend Vouga, she's in Dragon army too."

Tali gazed up at the rather large krogan youth, smiling happily. "Hi, are you a krogan?" she asked.

Vouga shifted uncomfortably, but she nodded. "Yes, I am Vouga, daughter of Ravanor Rixx. I have come to this station to learn the ways of the biotic, like the great Urdnot Wrex."

"Johnny likes rex!" Tali said helpfully. "He had one we used to play with together."

"I do not understand, I am not good with the quarian tongue. What do you mean, Johnny had a Wrex?" Vouga asked, frowning slightly.

"She means Johnny had a T-Rex, a toy dinosaur," Kleeah explained coming up behind Tali. "Not Urdnot Wrex. I am Kleeah'Zorah, it is good to meet Johnny's friends. He is like family to us." Kleeah bowed, and gently pressed down on Tali's shoulder so she would do the same.

Grateful that someone was finally talking to her in a manner she understood, Vouga bowed in response. "It is good to meet you as well, Kleeah of Clan Zorah."

With that, Tali lost interest and wandered over to Johnny, who was concentrating very hard on a small rubber ball in his hand.

"Dude, give it over, you're going to give yourself a nose bleed!" Kaidan was saying, laughing and slapping Johnny on the back.

Johnny continued to stare at the ball, and Tali stood up on her tippytoes to look him in the eye. "Watcha doin'?"

"Trying to use my biotics," Johnny gasped, finally blinking and grinning sheepishly at Tali. "I know I've got them, but even with the implant I can't use them most of the time."

"Hey man, it took me nearly two months before I could use mine reliably," Kaidan assured Johnny. "Hey Vouga, how long did it take you?"

"I do not understand," Vouga said slowly, interrupting her conversation with mommy. "How long did what take me?"

Kaidan rolled his eyes. "To use your biotics, duh!"

"Oh," Voaga scratched under her chin. "Once it was discovered I had biotics, it took me several weeks to access them. I arrived here at much the same time as Shepard, but I had already been trained by my clan shaman."

Kaidan beamed at Johnny and slapped him on the back again. "See, no worries, man!"

Taking the ball from Johnny's hand, Tali giggled and held it above her head. "No ball unless you use your biotics to get it!"

Johnny scowled at Tali for a moment, and then his eyes suddenly changed from their normal hazel color to bright blue. He reached out his hand, and the ball floated from Tali's hand to Johnny's own. Tali gasped in delight, then shrieked in horror. A rivulet of blood had trickled down from Johnny's nose.

"Oh crap," Johnny muttered, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a tube of medicine, which he squirted up his nose.

Kaidan chuckled and handed Johnny a tissue. "Told ya."

"Recruit Shepard! Report to the med bay IMMEDIATLY!" A stern voice barked.

Tali jumped at the sound, and Johnny's shoulders slumped. "Yes ma'am, Commandant Otorus," he mumbled.

"Busted," Kaidan sighed, shaking his head.

The newcomer was a female quarian, and Tali ran over and wrapped her arms around the teacher's leg. The woman was obviously a teache. She had the teacher voice and everything. "Teacher! Is Johnny gonna be OK?" Tali cried.

Kneeling down beside Tali, the teacher nodded. "Yes he is little one, but anytime a student strains himself too much, nosebleeds can happen. He's going to be OK, but I want a nurse to take a look at him, just in case."

"Can I go with him?" Tali pleaded. "Pleeeease teeeeacher?"

The teacher looked behind Tali to her mothers, and human mommy nodded. "Alright Tali, but stay with Johnny and don't be a bother."

Vigorously nodding, Tali grabbed Johnny's hand and led him out of the hanger. "Come on! We have to go see the nurse. I had to go see the nurse one time, I got a tummy ache and she had me drink some water and eat some crackers and lay down and I felt all better! So we're gonna make you all better too Johnny!"

"Alright, alright," Johnny agreed, allowing Tali to lead him toward the clearly marked med center. Tali couldn't read the sign, but she recognized the picture of a cross. The same one was over the nurse's office at school. There were a lot of signs with pictures in Vancouver to cater to its now three species of inhabitants.

It didn't take long to reach the nurse, a kindly looking young woman with light brown hair and warm eyes who checked Johnny out with a handheld scanner. "My, my, Recruit Shepard," the nurse clucked. "You seem to be developing quite the habit of coming in here to see me. Trying to use your biotics before you're ready again?"

"Yes Dr. Chakwas," Johnny admitted sheepishly. "It worked this time though, Tali took my ball and I tried to get it, and I actually managed to do it!"

"Really?" Dr. Chakwas said, pausing and glancing over at Tali, who was perched anxiously upon a chair and swinging her legs as she looked on. "And where is the object in question?"

Johnny held out the rubber ball, and Dr. Chakwas held it in the palm of her hand. "Try it now. I want to get some scans of your implant in use, to make sure everything is hooked up properly."

Grunting and groaning, Johnny held out his hand, but his eyes stayed hazel and no blue glow appeared. "I'm sorry ma'am, I can't seem to do it," Johnny apologized.

"So I see," Dr. Chakwas observed, frowning slightly. She glanced over at Tali, then walked over and handed Tali the ball. Picking up her scanner, Chakwas turned back to Johnny. "Try now."

Once again, Johnny streched out his hand and strained, but nothing happened.

"Come on Johnny, you can do it!" Tali urged, holding the ball towards him.

Slowly, Johnny's eyes turned a light shade of blue, and the ball rose from Tali's hand and traveled toward Johnny. Halfway there, the glow faded and the ball dropped to the floor. The nose bleed came back as Johnny slumped over, and Tali jumped out of her chair and ran over to Johnny.

"Are you OK?" she demanded, peering up into his face as Johnny hastily stuffed a tissue blotted with medicine up his nose.

"I'b fine," he assured Tali, though he glanced at Dr. Chakwas for confirmation.

The doctor consulted her omnitool for a moment, then nodded. "Indeed you are. Your body is simply adjusting to having all that energy running through it. I'm going to give you some pills for your blood pressure, that's what's causing the frequent nose bleeds. Other than that, make sure you are getting lots of calories, frequent exercise, and not straining yourself too hard."

Johnny nodded, and he and Tali walked out of the med center. "Do you want cake?" Tali asked. "We brought you some, cause it's your birthday."

Johnny smiled brightly. "Yeah, cake would be good. I'm glad you're here Tali, it's hard with my mom gone on deployment and all."

Taking Johnny's hand again, Tali led Johnny back to the rest of the brood. Today was a good day.

_Authors Note: _

_We'll be checking in on a few more of our Mass Effect children in the next few chapters, so I hope you all haven't gotten too much sweet- _**ASSUMING**** DIRECT CONTROL.**

**WE ARE INFINITE AND THIS IS OUR STORY**

**BEFORE THE RACES OF THE GALAXY HAVE STRUGGLED AGAINST US**

**THEIR EFFORTS WERE IN VAIN**

**THIS TOO SHALL PASS**

**YOUR LIVES ARE MEANINGLESS**

**YOUR HOPES AND DREAMS NAUGHT BUT FODDER FOR OUR GLORY**

**THE MEEK SHALL NOT INHERIT THE GALAXY**

**THEY SHALL RECEIVE PERFECTION**

**THE CYCLE WILL CONTINUE**


	19. Chapter 19

"Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn.

_In his house at R'lyeh dead Cthulhu waits dreaming._"

_**Jatar, Dis System - Nihilus**_

_**November 4th, 2164**_

"What in the name of the spirits..." Nihilus checked his scanners again. "That can't be right..." With a few keystrokes, Nihilus confirmed the initial scan. Something was on the surface of Jatar. Something that hadn't been left by the pirates he was tracking. What had started as a stopover to discharge his drive core was about to become something more.

It didn't take long for Nihilus to make a call to his fellow Spectres Flavus and Saren, then he took his ship in for a landing. Upon initial inspection, he could tell that whatever its origin this ship was immense. Easily half again as large as one of the Hierarchy's dreadnoughts. It was ancient too, the dust of ages had suffused it's surface. On a planet with as little atmosphere as Jatar, that took time.

Exiting his ship, Nihilus made his way over to the object, looking for a way in. He put a gauntlet on the wreck's looking-

**AND SO WE RULED THE STARS ACENDANT TO PERF-**

"Spirits!" Leaping back, Nihilus glanced around quickly, aiming his pistol with shaking hands. Nothing. He was alone. Hesitantly, he rested his hand on the surface again. There was nothing. Silence. Trembling, Nililus glanced at the place his talons had disturbed the caked on grit. It looked normal enough.

He slowly shook his head. "I'm imagining things." But he waited until Flavus and Saren arrived before he went near the wreck again.

_**Jatar, Dis System - Flavus Vakarian**_

_**November 12th 2164**_

Studying the outside of the wreck, Flavus's mandibles twitched slightly. "Something feels wrong."

"Did you hear something?" Nihilus asked. Flavus deteched something he had never heard before in his voice. It was more than fear. It was abject terror.

"No, what do you mean?" Flavus demanded, taking another look at the ship. It just looked like an old wreck, but his vision seemed to slide and blur whenever he looked at it, as if it was painful to behold.

"Put your hands on it," Nihilus encouraged.

Saren and Flavus glanced at one another, then as on reached out and touched it. It looked like any metal Flavus had ever seen before, felt the same too. "Nothing."

But Saren jerked back as if shocked as soon as his talons touched the thing.

"See!" Nihilus whispered. "You heard it too."

"I heard nothing. Come on, let's find a way inside," Saren rumbled, rubbing his talons where they had touched the ship.

It didn't take long to find a massive hole, and not a natural one. The hole resembled a wound a ship might take from a dreadnaughts main battery. Except no dreadnaught Falvus had ever seen could have left a hole this big. "What the hell could do that to something this big?" He pondered aloud.

"Something powerful. Come on," Saren growled.

Reluctantly, Flavus followed inside-

_we were taken we were consumed no longer ourselves_

"Did you say something Saren?" Flavus demanded, drawing his weapon and activating his flashlight. It wasn't necessary; his suit had a low light filter that allowed him to see in anything but total darkness. He found the soft warm glow comforting anyway.

"You're hearing things," Saren snarled. "Are you two hatchlings or Spectres?"

Flavus followed Saren deeper into the wreck, but now both he and Nihilus had their weapons and flashlights out. "You heard it too," Nihilus stated.

"Something's very wrong here," Flavus muttered by way of reply.

Slowly, they made their way deeper into the ship. Even though the air was dead and still and Flavus was inside a hardsuit, he felt cold drafts of air. He heard faint whispers. Sometimes in a language he had never heard before, other times in the voice of his wife or father, other times in a terrifying rumble that made him want to curl up in a ball or run screaming in terror.

**WE MADE THE STARS BOW TO US. WE WERE THE CYCLE. **

"You can't tell me you didn't hear that," Nihilus gasped, grabbing onto Flavus. Flavus didn't care, he was clutching Nihilus for all he was worth anyway.

Turning, Saren growled period. His eyes seemed to glow with a terrible inner light. "You two make me sick. You're whimpering like day old hatchlings! What do you think this place is?" With a grand gesture, Saren's flashlight illuminated a statue in a darkened recess.

"Oh spirits," Flavus moaned.

"What are you-" Saren turned, and fell silent. They beheld an abomination. It looked like old bones, but bones would have long ago rotted away. Corpses writhed in torment, stretching out hands or prostrating themselves in sheer terror. Some offered children's skeletons up as sacrifices, others shielded small bodies. Their heads were triangular and they appeared to lack eyes, but they were clearly sentient beings of some sort. Above them rose the object of their terror; A black monster, terrible in form. It seemed to suck away the light that hit it, shrouding itself in darkness. Grotesque appendages separated themselves from a segmented body, and a maw seemed to drip darkness and fear onto the writhing tangle of bodies below it.

"We have to get out!" Flavus screamed, and he and Nihilus made a desperate scramble for the exit, dropping their guns and fleeing in terror. Saren wasn't far behind them, no longer crying for them to stay but racing after them, howling in panic and fear.

"FREEZE!" A distant voice cried, one Flavus thought he remembered. A safe voice, and he flung himself in the direction of the voice.

"Bosh'tet!" the voice swore, and Flavus looked up to see Berr'Reegar. "What the hell, Flavus Vakarian?"

"Berr!" Flavus cried. Never in his life had he been so glad to see a Leaguer, any Leaguer. It was better than the voices, better than.. Than THAT. "Spirit's Berr, it's not dead! That ship is alive!"

Berr's eyes glowed as he stared down at the sobbing turian clutching at him, then he shook his head. "Stand down men."

Slowly, Flavus disentangled himself and glanced around. Nihilus was sitting on the ground weeping. A confused human female stood over him. Saren was crouching in the entrance of the ship, staring back into the nothingness that lay within its shadows.

"Berr, I don't know what that thing is," Flavus panted, "But it's alive. Somehow, that ship is alive. There were... Voices. Bodies. Darkness. It's too horrible to describe."

"Flavus, are you alright?" Berr asked slowly, studying Flavus's face.

Flavus shook his head. "No. No I am not. Put your hand on the bulkhead there. You'll know what I mean."

"Weapons up people!" Berr snapped, and the League troops pointed their guns at the turians. "Not at them, the ship!" Berr roared.

"Chief?" A hesitant soldier queried.

"Just do it," Berr ordered as he stepped forward. "Something spooked three Council Spectres. Takes a hell of a lot to do that." The quarian non-com stepped forward, slowly reaching his hand out. Gently, he touched the surface, then slowly placed his full hand on the ships metal. "I don't feel anything Flavus. What are you- BOSH'TET!"

Berr leaped back, his eyes going wide behind his mask. "What the hell was THAT?" he demanded.

Trembling slightly, Flavus's mandibles drooped. "I don't know. I've never seen or felt anything like that. Something's in there. Something bad. There was a...a... statue."

"A statue?" Berr demanded, coming over. "What do you mean?"

"Bodies," Nihilus muttered. "Bodies and darkness. Leave dead gods buried."

Berr slowly studied the three turian, pausing to take a long look at each of them. Saren had stood, his head cocked to one side, as if he was hearing something no one else could. His back was to the group, and he seemed lost in whatever whispers the wind was carrying to him. Nihilus had also risen and covered his visor with his talons. Flavus met Berr's gaze evenly. "There is evil in there, Berr. Something mortals were not meant to find."

"No!" Saren suddenly shouted. "That's wrong! That can't be right!"

All eyes turned to the Spectre, who spun to face the assembly. "It isn't... We can't... No, no it's wrong!"

"What's wrong?" the human female demanded. Her gun was pointed past Saren, into the belly of the beast. She was shaking like a leaf in the wind.

"Back to the ship," Berr ordered grimly. "We're getting out of here. Now."

Flavus nodded. "We're leaving as well. And never returning. Whatever this is, it needs to stay buried."

"We have to report it," Nihilus moaned. "We have to tell the Council. Something very bad happened in there."

Flavus couldn't run back to his ship fast enough, and he couldn't hit deep space fast enough. He filed his report after he set course for Palaven. He needed to hold his wife and children. Needed to feel alive. Something dead should not haunt the world of the living.

_**ILS Denpasar - Berr'Reegar**_

_**November 13th, 2164**_

"Admirals, I cannot begin to describe it," Berr stated matter of factly. "It was like hearing the voice of a ghost, of something long dead. I got my team the hell out of there. This is the video the Spectre's shared with us."

Berr tapped his omnitool and patched in the recording from Flavus's suit. The camera shook violently as Flavus trembled in panic, but it caught everything. The pile of alien corpses, bodies of no species ever recorded. Of the dark, terrible thing that loomed over them, sucking in the light.

"Oh spirits."

"What are you-"

"We have to get out!"

Hackett's face was grim, and Vexxu's eyes dimmed with worry. "Admirals, I don't know what else I can say but to repeat what Flavus told me: 'That thing, whatever it is, is evil.'"

"A Reaper? Ccan it be?" Hackett muttered, his eyes unfocused.

"Chief, you and your crew are ordered into quarantine until your arrival back at Arcturus and you can be personally debriefed, "Vexxu stated. "I'm forwarding orders to Commander Troya now. You are to return immediately. Do not speak of what you saw to ANYONE. Do not under any circumstances show that video to anyone. Understand?"

Taken aback, Berr stammered, "I... Um aye, aye, ma'am."

"Dismissed." The link faded. Berr leaned forward, grabbing the console and sweating. What the hell was going on?

_**Arcturus Station - Admiral Vexxu'Hackett**_

"He was right. Ancestors, he was right," Vexxu moaned, slumping down into her chair. "I wanted to think it was nothing but a flight of fancy on Cerberus's part."

Her husband put his arm around her, squeezing tightly. "I know. I did too."

Just before their wedding, The Illusive Man had come to them. "We know why the protheans disappeared."

If Vexxu had been able to get a hold of TIM, she would have killed him. She was naked and in bed with her soon-to-be-husband, hardly what she would call the proper time for a visit. But TIM had ignored her squawks of protest or Steven's drawn weapon, pacing and smoking like he was the only one in the room.

"They were destroyed by an advanced race of machines. The Reapers. Like what happened with the quarians and the geth, only much worse. These Reapers appeared from nowhere, and within a few years, crippled and destroyed the prothean civilization. It doesn't appear to be the first time this has happened. Once you know what to look for, the signs are there."

TIM had turned, jabbing his cigarette right at Vexxu, though it was just a projection like the rest of him. " Admirals, you need to get us ready. The Reapers are coming back. How soon I don't know. But they are coming. The League needs to deal with the Citadel and get ready for the real fight. This is a matter of survival, pure and simple."

And with that he had disappeared, and Vexxu and Hackett had done their best to forget about his sudden visit. Now the memory was coming back with a vengeance.

"We'll have to investigate the corpse," Steven mused, "but what Reegar was talking about made them sound like some sort of eldritch abomination."

Shuddering slightly, Vexxu nodded. "Yes, I think that describes the Reaper's nicely, especially from the data files the Illusive Man sent us."

"Mind control, incredible power, technology unlike anything the protheans had ever seen, and appearing from nowhere," Hackett agreed. "And now we've found one."

"At least it's dead," Vexxu muttered.

"Even dead gods dream."

_**Jatar, Dis System - Saren Arterius**_

_**November 14th, 2164**_

The others had left. For now, Saren was alone. But he was not alone, was he? Sitting in the belly of the dead beast, Saren was brooding, listening to the whispers in his mind.

_we were the harvest _

**OUR WILL WAS ABSOLUTE, OUR POWER TOTAL **

_our defiance was in vain_

**THE ONES WHO SLEW US WERE CAST DOWN BY OUR SIBLINGS, MADE TO SERVE, REFORGED IN OUR IMAGE**

_the stars themselves were blackened by their numbers _

**WE ARE BEYOND RECKONING, BEYOUND KNOWING. WE GAVE ORDER AND ETERNAL LIFE TO THE GALAXY**

Closing his eyes, Saren rocked gently as the voices continued to wash over him. What were they? What did they mean? Were they enemy, or were they a possible ally; a power he could use.

**WE SHALL USE YOU. YOU SHALL BE OUR SERVANT, OR HERALD. LONG HAVE THE LESSER RACES GROWN ARROGANT IF YOU SEEK TO BEND US TO YOUR WILL, MORTAL. **

Saren tried to stand, tried to flee, but his body refused to obey, and against his will he prostrated himself before the blasphemous icon.

**YOU ARE MARKED, SAREN ARTERIUS. YOU WILL FIND THE VANGUARD. YOU WILL SERVE THE CYCLE.**

Howling in pain and rage, Saren struggled to regain control of his body as a fiery brand seemed to sear his mind, causing the whole world to spin and tumble as he lost control.

**GO. GO AND FIND THE VANGUARD. BRING ORDER TO THE CHAOS. UPLIFT YOURSELF.**

The world faded to blackness, and all seemed to turn to fire and death as unconsciousness fell.

J̸ͪ̽ͨ͏̬̬̖͖ả̸̪̄t̨̗̏ͪ̐ͯ͊͗̃̏́ă̰̞̹̮͆ͣ̑̊͋̑͐̑͝r̙̲̊͊̋ͤ͂̒̑ͣ͐͠͠,̽̾̿ͦ̑ͪ̂ͯ͝͏̺̹́ ̨̫̞̮̞͇͉ͭ̾ͯͧD̘̖̻͍̲̻͍̤͋ͪ͛͐ͪ̕i̴̲̜̱̲͑ͭ̑͐̀͢sͣͥ̇͒̔ͤ̊̈́҉̝̜̥̞́͡ͅͅ ̦̜̮͚̙̇ͩ̿̈̆̐ͥ͛̓͠S̖͙̞͔̓ͣͦ̇̆͐̀̌ͤy̆ͭͯ̒̉̂͋͏̫͉͎s͍̫̞͉̥̱̲̮ͦ̈́̆́́̀t̢̝̹͈̠͉ͭͦ̋ͨ̾͜͞ḙ̶̵̗̬̤̲̼͓̇̈̈̉̈́̐ṁ̡̠̫̦̦͋̔͋̿ͩͩ̑͂ ̶̲̳ͤ̆̂ͤ͋ͪ̌͡ - Sͬͪ͌́̈́̍͂͜҉̙̥̝̗̳̩͈͍͠à̡̪̾ͫ̈́͝r͍̳̜͎͎̙̗͚̗̈́ͭ́ͤ͌̉ͦ́͘ė̷̗͍͎̪͔̮͚̰͞n̢̖̬͚͚͌̍ͥ̽͜͟ ͖̦̲͉̳̟͇̋ͤ̔̈́͋ͩͮ̎ͬĂ̓̒҉͚͉͍r̨̩̗̹̗̹̮̎͐͊ͥ̐͐̊̋̕ͅt̶̵̙̯̜̫̣̏͛̈̐ͨ̚e̞̝͎̠̊̇͗̃̐̃̚r͌̎͏̧̘̮̖͞ḯ̴̡͕͈͇̬̬͕ͭ̆ͮ̑̒̃͂ư̶̟̰̭̬̰͓̳̺̂͟s̙̯̎̓͢

Ṋ̷̞͕͙͈̝̀̏̈́̈͢o͗͂ͬ̃͏̸̨͎͕̞̮ͅͅv̩͎̝͚̈́̄͂́͟͝è̠̜͚̣̲͖̝̦ͣ̈̈́͆ͤm̰̦̗̥͔̘̤̞̆̈́ͨ̐͗́̓̚b̡̺̗̗̪̼̬̥͛̐͑̆ë̷͓̜̼̰̺͍́̌ͨ̓ͮ̒ͫ͘r͖̭̤̺͑̍ ̨͉̞̗̋͒͆̂͗ͫ͂̋͘1̸̳̮̻̠̯͚ͦ̾ͦ̑̎̅̅͢͟ͅ4͓̺͔̗̪͑̅͆̉͒͠͞͡t̘̹͊̇͐ͫ̄h̸̞̼̫̖̎ͩͪͦ͆͗̓ͭ͜,̖̘̑̿ͥ̑ͣ̀ ͂͆͛̄ͮ͑͂̃͏̷̬̞͜ͅ2̷̮͎͕̟̻̝̍͂͋͊͐ͨ1̴̵̫͒6̮̱̲͔͑ͤ̀̕4͚̥̙̳̳͇̾̿̊͂

u̧r̶͜n̵i̢͘n͝g̡ ͘b͏le͏͏e͠di͏͡n͞g͢͠ ̡͠҉f͏iģ̸̕h̨͢t҉͏i҉̕n̴g͝͏͘ g͞n̵͢ąw̴i͘͝n͢g c̡͟͜a͏̸͜n̛҉'̸́t ͡ęs͟c͟͞ape͝͡ ́w̶҉h̶̨͡at̵ ̡h͘a̸p̷̷pe̴̕ń͠ed͞ t͡͏͟o m̀͡҉e̢͏͞ w̨͝ḩ͘e̕r̶̀e̴ ̶hà̴͝v̧͜e̢͏̶ ̵I̵҉͜ ̧̛͘g͠o̸͏͟ne̛ ́̀w͢͞h҉̕at̢ ͞h̨͏a͏́v̷͜e͟͡ ̴̧̀I ̡d̕o̶n͢͜e͟ ̛̛͟s҉p͢ir͟i̕t͏͢ś ̧͝s҉a҉v̷̷e̸ m̶̡̀é͞ ̶̛͡I͡'m ̀͝͏sǫ͡ ͞ş̴o̵̢̧r̴̡͞rý̸

With a gasp, he awoke. Slowly, Saren gazed around the ship. He laughed, though it sounded and felt hollow.

"A bunch of hatchlings, that's all," he assured himself. Everything was alright, he was fine. He was himself.

What to do though? This ship was obviously technologically advanced. What to do, what to do. Ah, the batarians, of course! They could use this technology, and Saren could easily bend them to his will. Get their leaders to visit this wondrous ship, learn it's secrets and see how wonderful it was! Yes, of course, that's what he would do.

Feeling content and happy, Saren walked to his ship. He dialed in to the nearest comm buoy and called up his old friend Balak. Together, they would bring wonders to the galaxy. And death to the League.

_**Arcturus Station - Berr'Reegar**_

_**November 23rd, 2164**_

"Now ,Chief Reegar, tell us exactly what you experienced. Everything. No matter how crazy or trival it sounds, I want you to fully describe your impressions," Mrs. Admiral Hackett stated. "And I don't think I need to remind you that this is a matter of League Security."

Swallowing hard, Berr looked at the not one, but two Hackett's staring grimly at him. They had been married a few months ago, and like everyone else in the League Berr had celebrated the first publicized inter-species marriage in the League. The ceremony had been performed by the Shaman of Tuchanka, giving a three species seal of approval and further binding the human and quarian people together. Right now though, Berr realized just how terrifying that union really was.

"Er, yes ma'am. It was like this, see. We were investigating an odd wreck. Nearby, three Council ships had landed. The wreck was huge, massive. Bigger 'n damn near anything I've ever seen, makes the new Asimov -class Super Carriers look like cruisers. Anyway, we got down to the wreck and I tell ya, one look at that thing sent a chill up my spine, admirals. I'm an N7. I've seen combat on a dozen worlds with every species imaginable. The shit I've seen... Well, it's in my folder. But I ain't never seen anything like that. It was... It was WRONG. Like, oily and black, hard to make out. And out of the corner of your eye, it looked... I dunno. It looked wrong.

Taking a deep breath, Berr calmed himself. "Hell, I'm getting all hot and bothered just remembering the thing. So when I tell you that I was scared, you have to understand what I mean. I ain't never pissed my suit when I was jumping from high orbit with a grav belt, or when I assaulted an STG commando with nothing more than grit and determination. But that wreck scared me. Spooked my men too. We all got the jitters, and some of them were green, recruits and the like. But me, I ain't green. And that wreck was bad news.

"Anyway, we get down there, and our equipment starts acting up. Fredricks said she saw something moving in the big ole hole in the wreck, so we move in to take a closer look. And out of that hole runs three turians who looked like they just seen the black end of the void with no suit on. And they were all Council Spectres. One of them, two of them actually, I knew real well. Nihilus and Flavus. Hard men, good too. And they was shaking like a bunch of Cub Scouts who just heard a space bear outside their tents.

" I suppose I ain't supposed to say this, but one of them was Saren Arterius. I got a buddy who's a spook, and we got drunk one night and he was tellin' me how credits to crackers, Saren Arterius was the Spectre who took out Eletania all on his lonesome. Man's a monster, but he's also a stone cold badass. And he had lost his shit, he was panicky, hearing voices and shit. Scared the hell out of me.

"Well Flavus, he grabs me and starts babbling about monsters and space demons or whatever. And Admirals, I believed him. I took his recording of the wreck and we got the hell out of there. Haven't been so glad to get out of somewheres since I went to visit my mother-in-law. And I'd rather spend the rest of eternity locked in a small bay with her than ever set foot inside that wreck. And that's a fact, ma'am."

The Hackett's looked at Berr silently for a moment, then Mr. Admiral Hackett spoke up. "You mentioned hearing voices Berr. Can you share that with us?"

"Uh, yes sir. When I put my hand on the ship, I heard a loud, angry voice, the voice of the devil. It said, 'YOU AND ALL YOUR KIND SHALL SERVE UPON OUR RETURN.' I don't know what it means Admirals, but it scared the hell out of me. Jumped near on a whole meter up and back to get the hell away from that thing," Berr answered matter of factly.

He was sweating now, and hard. Berr was infinitely grateful for his mask. He was gonna be Sectioned 8'd for sure. What sort of idiot would tell any admiral he was hearing voices in his heads? Apparently, his sort.

To his shock, Mr. Admiral Hackett paled, and Mrs. Admiral Hackett looked away, her eyes widening, as if she was frightened. "Thank you, Chief. Anything further to report?" Mrs. Admiral Hackett asked after a few moments.

"No ma'am," Berr assured her.

"Very well. As of now, you are being medically discharged, citing post traumatic stress disorder from your long and honorable service," Mr. Admiral Hackett stated. "You will retain all pay and benefits."

Berr's heart sank. He had known this was what was going to happen. It was all going to be swept under the rug and they were trying to him bribe into silence. "Sir, I must protest, that wreck, whatever it was, was bad. Something's out there, something bad, and if you try to sweep this under the rug-"

"I wasn't finished Chief," Hackett interrupted evenly, and Berr's mouth clacked shut. "Take some time, go visit your family. You will be under close medical watch during this time. There may be... residual effects from your encounter with the Reaper corpse. If you ever, under any circumstances, begin to hear those voices again, you will report it IMMEDIATLY. Do you understand me, Chief?"

Frowning, Reegar nodded slowly. Why the hell did they care about him if they were eighting him? "Yes sir."

"Good. In three weeks, you will receive an offer of Employment with Black Whirlwind Military Solutions LTD,. You will accept that offer of employment, and await further instructions. Do I make myself clear, Chief?" Mr. Admiral Hackett demanded.

"Sir, yes sir." Reegar replied automatically.

The admirals stood, and Reegar sprang to his feet. "Good work, Chief," Mrs. Admiral Hackett told him, saluting Berr crisply. "You've done the League proud."

Berr walked out of the meeting, thoroughly confused, but certain that something was up. He had a feeling that somehow, Black Whirlwind Military Solutions LTD, wasn't exactly what most people thought it was.

_**The Citadel - Flavus Vakarian**_

"Tell me again, Spectre Flavus. What did you hear? When you were in the hulk," Councilor Sapias demanded, her mandibles tremoring slightly with suppressed emotion.

Glancing at Aethyta and Sapias, the two Citadel Councilors before him, Flavus nodded, his own mandibles spread slightly in embarrassment. "I heard, 'We made the stars bow to us. We were the Cycle.' Cycle was capitalized, I could... I could sense it."

"Indeed," Aethyta observed, nodding slowly. She glanced over at Sapias, frowning. "Tell me, did this hulk ever give you a name for what it was?"

"No ma'am," Flavus answered.

For a moment, silence hung in the air. Then Aethyta took a trembling breath and depressed a key on her console. "Send in Dr. T'soni and Justicar Samara. And the... Object."

Flavus turned and was surprised to see a justicar in formal robes come through the portal. Justicars were rarely seen outside of asari space, and never in their formal order robes. With her was a young, nervous looking asari who didn't appear to be far into her maiden stage. What in Tartaros was going on?

"Spectre Flavus," Sapias snapped, and Flavus whipped back around to face her. "What you are about to hear can NEVER leave this room. You are not to discuss this with anyone, save myself or Councilor Aethyta. And then only when we first broach the subject. This is a delicate matter, one that the Hierarchy is still struggling to come to grips with. Do you understand?"

Flavus nodded hastily. "Yes ma'am."

"Good." Sapias nodded to the two asari. "Dr. T'soni. Show him."

Slowly, the young asari held up a small object and uttered a command in a language Flavus' translator didn't catch. A green figure flickered to life and said something in the same strange, twittering language. Dr. T'soni gave another command, and the green figure faded, replaced by an image of-

"SPIRITS!" Flavus sprung backwards, reaching for a sidearm that wasn't there, his mind babbling a thousand things. "GET THAT AWAY FROM ME!"

"Turn it off!" Aethyta snapped, and the next thing Flavus knew, he was pinned to the floor with the justicar straddling him, a glowing fist poised to spread his brains over the floor.

"Are you well, Spectre?" Samara asked calmly.

Numbly, Flavus nodded. "I, yes. Sorry, but that... That was a picture of the hulk. Where, where did you get it?"

"The protheans refer to it as a Reaper, Spectre Vakarian," Dr. T'soni replied, putting away the small holo. "I haven't been able to translate much, our knowledge of them is still fragmentary at best. But recently, I stumbled across references to Reapers in a... Data cache."

"We'll talk later, Aethyta," Sepias growled, her subharmonics telling Flavus that either Sepias was ready to mate, or to tear out someone's throat.

Aethyta grimaced, but she nodded. "Continue, Dr. T'soni."

"Yes, the Reapers, they wiped out the Protheans," Dr. T'soni explained. "And from what fragments of past civilizations we have been able to piece together, the protheans were not the first race to fall victim to the Reapers. It appears to be a... a Cycle."

Flavus' mandibles dropped in horror. "Oh spirits. And we're next."

Samara nodded, helping Flavus to his feet. "Indeed. We must prepare. That is why I am here. Long have the justicars known of the demons that lurk in dark spaces. Once, they were cast out by the Goddess when she saved the asari people from the sky demons and gave us knowledge."

"You don't mean..." Flavus' mandibles suddenly rose. "But the Titans! That's... That's just what our legends record!"

"That has long been noted as a similarity between our peoples' ancient faiths. Unlike the turians, the asari have not forgotten. The justicars stand ready," Samara stated.

Slowly brushing himself off, Flavus barked a bitter laugh. "I think it's going to take more than a few justicars to stop those things. That Reaper was massive. It makes our new Lawgiver class carriers look tiny."

"We are aware," Aethyta sighed. "It has also vanished completely. Your account and recording is all that remains. We suspect the League, but..."

"-But there are other factors. Serious ones," Sepias asserted. "Spectre Vakarian, you and Spectres Nihlius and Saren will form the core of a new task group, one dedicated to finding and destroying the Reapers. The League is still a clear and present danger. But once they are dealt with, we cannot help but feel that the Reapers will represent a serious threat out our security. Do you understand?"

Flavus nodded. "Aye ma'am. I shall man the wall."


	20. Chapter 20

"_Heroism doesn't pay very well. I try to be cold-blooded and money-oriented, but I keep screwing it up."_

_-Harry Dresden_

_**Sydney, Earth - Miranda Lawson**_

_**December 25, 2164**_

"Merry Christmas, Ori," Miranda said, smiling, but not feeling it.

"Pwesents!" Ori cheered, toddling over to the brightly wrapped packages. She immediately tore into the presents, squealing with delight at each new offering.

Miranda's smile was a bit brighter now. She walked over and helped Ori open the package. The toddler shrieked with delight when she saw the doll inside. "Do you like it Ori? I picked them out, just for you."

"Tanks Meeri!" Ori giggled as she hugged her sister tightly. "But where'ds you pwesents?"

Miranda's smile froze and tightened. "Oh, I'm sure mummy and daddy just forgot to give them to me yet." Pointing at the last package under the tree, Miranda asked, "What about that one, you haven't opened it yet."

"Dat's for you!" Ori proudly declared, taking the package and holding it toward her sister. "See, it's gots you names on it. I drawed it."

Sure enough, the neatly wrapped package read "Miri" though the R was backwards and the letters where huge and misshaped. "Thank you, Ori," Miranda whispered, tears coming to her eyes. Somehow, this small package meant so much more than the thousands of dollars in gift cards and spending accounts she routinely received ever since she had turned ten. When she was little her father had gotten her whatever she wanted. Now she was expected to invest her Christmas money in Fortune 500 companies and show a return on her investment.

Taking care not to damage the wrapping paper, Miranda gently opened her gift. She set the wrapping aside, and wondered who had wrapped the present. It hadn't been Ori, that was certain. When she finally got the gift open her heart sank momentarily when she saw that it was lab equipment. Then she did a double take. The "Lab Equipment" was "Dr. Disguto's Genetic Horrors Factory."

"Its... It's sweets," Miranda murmured, turning the package over. On the back side, a note was carefully taped onto the box. Miranda detached it and opened the folded paper.

"Never believed in religious holidays until recently. Have changed mind with new work. Not sure yet if deity exists, but searching. Answers no longer found in lab experiments. Hope own life is better, my young Companion. Merry Christmas. - The Doctor."

Tears flooded Miranda's eyes, and she bent down to give her sister a big hug. "Thanks, Ori."

"You welcomes," Ori answered cheerfully. "Can I has some sweets too Meeri?"

Brushing aside her tears, Miranda nodded and began to set up the dyes and tubes of dextros and levo sugars that would create their little confectionary wonders. "Of course Ori, it's Christmas."

**Sydney, Earth - Mordin Solus**

It was time. Everything came down to this. Dr. Solus gazed at his paper notes; this data was too delicate to put into easily monitored electronic form. After years and years of research, he had cracked it. Others had helped, but ultimately it had come down to him. Someone else would have gotten it wrong. The perfect, long term cure to the Genophage. He had it in his hands. And it would be so easy. Just a single alteration in the DNA chain to modify the hormonal levels. No more still births, just a vastly reduced krogan birthrate. That would be what was right, wouldn't it?

"Jingle bells jingle bells, jingle all the way-"

Mordin turned, and beheld Miranda and her sister singing. They had on matching outfits, red tank tops and miniskirts in a nod to the warm summer weather in Sydney.

"-O what fun it is to ride in a one horse open sleight, hey!"

The two girls continued to sing, and Mordin smiled. Miranda winked at him, and continued to guide her sister in the song. Miranda's voice was trained and beautiful. She could easily have appeared on one of those mindless shows humans and quarians were always watching showcasing amateur talents. But her sister, well, she was enthusiastic, that much was certain. Miranda obviously didn't care that her sister's untrained and rather unharmonious voice was detracting from her own performance. Oriana was having a good time, and that was all that mattered to Miranda.

They finished, and Mordin applauded politely. "Good, good. Must be reason for visit though, holidays meant to be spent with family, not in lab."

"Exactly," Miranda declared brightly.

"'xactly." Oriana agreed, nodding seriously.

"Not aware of familial relationship with either child," Mordin remarked, blinking slowly.

Striding over, Miranda handed Mordin a crudely wrapped package and set steaming bags on the table. They smelled of fish and chips. "You're family now, whether you want to be or not," she declared. "You gave me and Ori both presents, and since our... 'parents' can't be bothered to have Christmas dinner with us, we decided to have it with you."

Mordin nodded slowly, then reached in and pulled out the fish and chips from The Captain's Glass. Ah, calamari, his favorite. He handed the children their food. Actually Miranda was now fourteen and could hardly be considered a child he supposed. As they ate, he silently passed Miranda his notes. She had been helping him less and less frequently, but she would understand them.

Her eyes widened as she read, then she snarled in rage. Disgustedly, she tossed the papers to the table. "Who put you up to that?" she demanded, jabbing her finger at the line that showed how to cure the Genophage while reducing krogan fertility. "My father?"

"Illusive Man," Mordin answered.

Miranda snorted derisively. "Figures that pri-incipled man would do something like that."

Glancing at the toddler, Mordin nodded. She was happily eating her fish and chips, her face smeared with ketchup. He reached over with a napkin and absently wiped her face. He had seen plenty of females do the same gesture with hatchlings before.

"They never do that," Miranda sighed, putting her head in her hands as she scooted the paper back into her field of vision.

Mordin blinked several times. "Who neglects what?"

"Wipe her face," Miranda absently replied. "They never do it. They let the nanny or me take care of it."

Frowning slightly, Mordin studied the girl. Young woman. Human biology was odd. He studied her, trying to interpret her emotions. He couldn't quite figure them out, couldn't figure Miranda out in general these days. Though according to the research he conducted, many adults found adolescents hard to fathom. He remained silent as Miranda re-read the report.

Finally, she sighed and neatly shuffled the papers together, handing them back to Mordin. "In a twisted sort of way, it makes sense. But it seems wrong to me. Like we're betraying the krogan. Aren't we supposed to be better than that?"

"Better relative term," Mordin answered reflexively. "Implied morally, in that sense, League often little better than Council. All species willing to exploit others for own gain."

"I suppose," Miranda sighed, smacking Ori's hand away from her own chips. "Don't, you know you'll get sick if you eat mine."

The child stuck her tongue out and pouted, but accepted her older sisters orders, and went back to eating her own dextrose food.

Mordin maintained his silence for a moment, then nodded. "Goodbye," he stated, standing and packing up his notes and samples.

Frowning, Miranda stood and came to stand beside him as he packed. "What do you mean, 'goodbye?' What's up, Doc?"

"Has to be me," Mordin answered. "Someone else might get it wrong. Have to do the right thing. Science neutral. Up to me to make moral decision."

"What?" Miranda cried, then shook herself. "No, never mind, I get it. But why goodbye?"

"Will likely die," Mordin answered, smiling down at Miranda. No. Not down. She as tall as he these days. Remarkable. Children did grow quickly. "Director, Illusive Man, not known for mercy or forgiveness. Will execute me. Intend to give Urdnot Wrex full cure, begin quiet dispersal immediately. Will have to flee into hiding. Still, likely to die."

"I see," Miranda nodded and turned, collecting her sister. "Give us two hours than. Meet us at the space port. Not the main one, the secondary one in the outskirts."

"No, have to say goodbye now," Mordin stated. "Must go alone."

"Don't be foolish, Doc," Miranda sniffed. "We're coming with you."

Blinking furiously, Mordin shook his head. "No. Stay here, have family, future."

"What family?" Miranda snapped. "A father and mother who won't even come to Christmas because they're working on some stupid project? A mum who insists on referring to my sister as an 'experiment?' A life of privilege in a glass cage? Cheers, but no thanks. We'll come with you, Doc. You're doing the right thing. And for once in my life, I'm going to do the same."

With that, Miranda stormed out, and Mordin found himself half smiling. Well. It looked like he was going to have to figure how not to die after all.

_**New Grecha, Tuchanka - Urdnot Wrex**_

_**December 28th, 2164**_

It was so small. It didn't look like anything, really. A vial of liquid, tinged slightly pink. Bad color for a warrior. But still. Wrex cradled the vial in his hand delicately, still basking in that sense of awe.

"This'll work?" he demanded roughly.

"Yes, yes, have run tests. Will work. Would prefer to remain and ensure trials run smoothly, but would lead to disaster. Illusive Man would find me. Not concerned about self, but..."

Wrex nodded. He had seen the pups the Doctor had along. Funny, humans had the tendency to end up in the oddest places. "My own staff can see to that. And it's a complete reversal, no hidden sterility genes inside?"

"Yes. Why I must flee. Too many rejected idea of full cure. Not right. Had to do it properly. In your hands now. Krogan must rise to task or destroy galaxy again. But fate is your own, no others. Can't make decision for you," The Doctor explained.

Wrex held up the vial, then smashed it on the ground and drank in the fumes as they wafted up to him, drinking in the infection it contained. But this wasn't a plague. It was hope. "Then I won't disappoint you."

_**New Grecha, Tuchanka - Jak of Tuchanka**_

"The fuck you lookin' at, cherledra," Jak snarled at the girl who was glaring at her as she gently rocked the quarian hatchling who was still crying. "I didn't mean to scare her, she just shouldn't sneak up on me like that."

"You've done enough damage already, cretin," The girl spat. "I would ask that you not use such vile language in my sister's hearing. She just wanted to play with you, you didn't have to lash out like that."

Jak snarled and half stood, stuffing away her drabbles she had been writing. "What are you gonna do about it, cherledra?" She demanded, letting the batarian curse roll off her tongue. It was something da had taught her, though she was careful not to use it in ma's hearing range.

Carefully, the other girl set the still bawling hatchling down. Then, she glowed blue. Jak was taken aback, she'd never really met many other biotics. "First, I'll kick your ass, baldy." The girl snarled.

Jak quirked an eyebrow. She was shaved head to toe, as was proper for a young krogan. Her skin was oiled and scrubbed regularly so that there was nothing a foe could grab onto and pull painfully. If she had as full a head of hair as the other girl, it would get yanked painfully every time she worked out.

"If that's how you want it, cherledra," Jak taunted, her own biotics easily coming to her. She could kick this pansy's ass no problem.

With a howl of anger, the other human rushed toward Jak. Jak snorted derisively. She wasn't even using a biotic charge. Disdainfully, Jak laid down a singularity, allowing the girl to run straight into the negative gravity well. She grinned malevolently. This was too easy.

To her shock, the other girl didn't cry in panic or freeze up when she found her world suddenly floating away. Instead, she used a biotic blast to blow herself free of the singularity, landing with a dancers grace next to Jak, then driving an elbow toward Jak's stomach. Jak blocked the blow, grunting with the effort. This cherledra was strong, that was sure. She counter attacked at the same time, driving an open palm rippling with biotic force toward her opponents nose. After all, da always said the best defense was to bash the enemy's skull in.

Instead of the satisfying crunch of breaking bone and cartilage, Jak's hand skittered off a biotic barrier and she found herself on her back as her foe swept her legs out from under her. She had to unleash a massive biotic blast to drive her foe back before a boot slammed into her solar plexus. Jak sprang to her feet, ready to unleash a powerful biotic shockwave when a tiny blur injected itself into the battlefield and slammed into Jak.

"YOU LEAVE MEERI ALONE BAD PERSON!" A tiny voice wailed as small fists rebounded harmlessly from Jak's leg.

"Get off!" Jak protested, trying to gently shove away the kid. It was against everything she had ever learned to hurt a juvenile. Children were to be protected, not harmed.

"Ori!" Jak glanced back at her foe, who was rushing toward the interloper with nothing but worry in her eyes.

Jak allowed her to pry the little limpet off her, then frowned down at the pair. The older one glared up at her as she comforted the still crying youngster.

"Oh fine!" Jak declared, throwing up her arms in surrender. "I'm sorry, OK? Just get her to quit it, I can't stand it when little kids cry."

"You might want to get used to it, pyjak," a deep voice rumbled from behind her. Jak spun to find her da looking down at her thoughtfully. "Going to be a lot of little pyjaks running around in a bit."

"What do you mean, da?" Jak asked, slightly baffled. She knew about the Genophage, and how it prevented krogan from having all that many kids.

"He means we just brought you the Genophage cure, baldy," an angry voice spat from behind her.

Her da nodded confirmation to those words, and Jak's eyes widened with horror. She spun around and bowed deeply. "Oh Ancients, I apologize for my shameful behavior," she babbled, not daring to look up as her face flushed bright red. How was she supposed to know that this kid was part of that team? Or that they had actually delivered the goods?

She heard a heavy sigh and some hiccups from the little quarian, then the biotic mumbled, "It's OK, I've had a rough couple of days myself. Sorry I attacked you."

"Eh, I wouldn't worry about it," Da chuckled. "You have my thanks, Miranda Lawson. I never thought the spawn of Henry Lawson would actually have anything approaching a conscience."

"Miranda Lawson is dead," the girl declared, her voice leaden. "I'm Miri Goldstein. My father's a racist son of a bi-rick, even in this day and age."

"I'm Ori!" The child declared helpfully, pointing to herself. "Miri says I'm gonna have to wear the funny clothes just like mummy!"

"She's no mum," Miranda snarled, then composed herself and nodded politly to da. "Overlord Wrex. I apologize that you had to see me in such a state."

"Don't apologize," Da grunted. "Took a quad to do what you and the Doctor did. I wish we could repay you, but honestly his plan to take you into hiding is a good one. And don't tell me where you're going. I don't want to know."

"Wise. Must be going, Illusive Man's spies sure to be on our tail," the Doctor stated, coming to stand beside the two girls.

Jak watched with more than a little wonder as the strange trio made their way onto the small space ship and departed. As they took off, Jak hesitantly turned to da. "Da, if you have other kids will you and ma-"

She was interrupted when she found herself in a fierce embrace that squeezed the breath right out of her. "You'll always be my daughter. Always. Nothing's gonna change that. No matter how many siblings you have. You're krogan, and one day, I will watch with pride when you are formally accepted into clan Urdnot."

Tears came unbidden to Jak's eyes, and she wrapped her own arms as far around her da as they could go and squeezed. She was lucky, and she knew it. She just hoped that the strange saviors who had just departed would have as much luck in their own ventures.

_**Arcturus Station - Prime Minister Donnel Udina**_

_**December 31st, 2164**_

"Senators, on this, the eve of the new year, I bring you proof that the Independent League stands by its members. For too long have the races of the galaxy suffered under the yoke of oppression and inequality. Now, the League shall show the way, carrying the torch of freedom and hope for all races. Ladies and gentlemen, the Genophage is no more. That horrific act of barbarism perpetrated and perpetuated by the Citadel Council has been eradicated. As we speak, the last of the krogan are being treated with the cure. This will restore what has long been lost to their people: hope.

"No longer shall the krogan mourn piles of dead children, whose only crime was that they were not born turian, salarian or asari, but krogan. Tell me, what is a krogan? Are they not a sentient being, equal before the law with all others? Yet for over a millennia they were treated as second class citizens, trash, garbage. No more. Today, I am proud to stand shoulder to shoulder with the krogan, who are our valued and trusted allies. I give you now Urdnot Wrex, Overlord of the krogan and a personal friend of mine. Wrex?"

With a dazzling smile, Udina stepped forward and embraced Wrex as flashes and cheers filled the senate chamber. He turned, arm around the massive krogan and waved to the press. Quarian, human and krogan members were ecstatic, cheering and shouting questions. But in the Citadel press court, there were sullen expressions and angry consternation. Udina's smile got even broader, and he leaned closer to Wrex. "Looks like some people didn't get the memo that this is a party," he chuckled.

Wrex's own laugh was dark and rumbling. "Oh, they'll make it a party. One I think we won't soon forget."

With that, Wrex ascended to the podium and spread his stubby arms for silence. He got it. Not even reporters were willing to disobey the massive krogan.

"Sentient beings of all races, I am proud to be a krogan upon this day. I am also saddened."

There was a sharp intake of breath at that, and Udina did his best to look surprised and mortified, though he knew what was coming.

"The Genophage is cured, and I thank my fellow League members for their assistance. Long have the krogan labored alone and in vain toward a cure, and with the League's resources we have succeeded. However, I would also like to extend thanks to the Citadel Council for their assistance and willingness to break their long misuse of the krogan people."

There were mutters of confusion at that, the Council had hardly been happy or helpful when it came to curing the Genophage. At least as far as they had known.

"One of the greatest minds of the Citadel Council, Professor Mordin Solus, was the leading researcher on the Genophage cure project. Without his aid and expertise, a cure would have been decades away."

A picture of Mordin, albeit a slightly doctored one that showed him with a whole horn, appeared on the screen. Complete with Mordin collaborating with krogan, quarian and human scientists on Earth. Pandemonium erupted from the Citadel press gallery as every Citadel member present shouted questions. Wrex ignored them and continued.

"Mordin personally delivered the Genophage cure with his young lab assistant, Miranda Lawson," A picture of Miranda and Mordin on Tuchanka flickered onto the screen. Beside them was the ever famous Oriana'Xen-Lawson nar Sydney. "Sadly, on the way back to Earth, Mordin's ship was attacked by pirates. He resisted capture, and his ship, along with all hands, perished."

Murmurs of concern and sorrow from the Leaguers, continued shouts of protest and demands for explanations from the Citadel races.

"In honor of Dr. Solus' sacrifice, I intend to give him the greatest honor I can envision. I intend to name my firstborn child Mordin. This will be, to my knowledge, first time a krogan has ever been named for a salarian. I hope it will not be the last. Because of the hand of peace and friendship the Citadel has extended to the krogan people, I invite representatives from each of the Citadel races, the elcor, volus, hanar, drell, turian, asari and salarian to Tuchanka for the opening of the Mordin Solus Children's Memorial Hospital. Thank you. Questions?"

Udina put a hand over his mouth to hide his grin as the Citadel reports finally got a chance to have their demands for answers met. It really didn't matter at this point though, the trap had been laid.

_**The Citadel - Councilor Ikki**_

_**January 2nd, 2165**_

Massaging her temples, Ikki tried to make the throbbing go away. She was getting too old for this. She was 40, high time to retire and spend the few months she had left somewhere peaceful. Where she wouldn't have to put up with nonsense like this.

"So, Councilor, care to explain just how one of yours is responsible for the greatest fuckup we've had since the idiot turians decided to fire on the humans at 314?" Aethyta asked in a so very chipper and pleasant voice.

Closing her eyes, Ikki imagined a nice, pleasant swamp, where she could sit and dine on fried flies all day, taking five minute naps between meals. "We thought he was dead. Murdered by the krogan. We are... re-evaluating that supposition."

"No, really?" Sapias growled, her mandibles spread in a display of aggression and displeasure.

"We found his body!" Ikki snapped. "Well, parts of it, anyway. We figured the brutes ate the rest. They do that, sometimes."

"I think in this case it is safe to assume that he was not, in fact, krogan munchies," Aethyta mocked, putting a single finger up to her mouth.

"Oh lay off," Ikki spat. "It's not like you haven't had similar screw ups with your people in the past."

Aethyta frowned and turned to Sapias. "Dear, do you recall either of our people ever curing the Genophage and giving the League access to one of the largest fighting forces in the galaxy in only a few years?"

"No," Sapias murmured, her eyes slanted dangerously in Ikki's direction. "I don't seem to recall that at all. In fact, I seem to remember my people doing everything in their power to keep the Genophage in place and build as many fortifications around the DMZ as we could."

"Enough!" Ikki shouted, slamming her fist onto the table. "What do we do? Obviously we can't punish Dr. Solus, we've seen the wreckage. His personal possessions and research were there. They were his. His body wasn't recovered, but he's surely dead this time, and his protégée. If the League hadn't hung every pirate responsible for the attack, I would have sent them flowers. As is, we need a response. Before the krogan's numbers become to vast to deal with."

"Indeed, and what do you propose Ikki?" Aethyta snarled, the pleasant mask dropping. "You've already fucked this up about as well as could be imagined."

"Fighting the League now would be lunacy," Sapias affirmed. "We have to split them first. As is, they're too strong. A war would leave us far too vulnerable to other threats."

"Ah yes, 'Reapers,'" Ikki rolled her eyes and finger quoted the word Reaper. "I think we can safely dismiss those claims for now."

"No, we can't," Sapias grated. "They're an even bigger threat than the League. You're just too blind to see that."

"Hmph. We should focus on the problems we have now, not create new ones," Ikki declared.

Pointing a finger straight at Ikki's chest, Aethyta's mouth split in a predatory show of malice. "And if you don't have any ideas as to how we can do that Ikki, I think it's safe to say you've done enough damage for the day. Maybe permanently. It might be time for your people to find a new Councilor. One that's smarter than her food."

"I refuse to be intimidated by your bluster!" Ikki snapped back. "Besides, I do have a plan. One we've been working on for decades. The Yahg."

A feral growl interrupted Ikki."Wait. Let me guess," Sapias snarled, slowly rising from her chair. "We uplift them to fight the League, manipulating their culture to suit our needs."

Ikki nodded curtly. "Yes, indeed. That way we-"

"GET OUT!" Sapias roared, her fangs bared as she extended deadly talons toward Ikki. "Don't you study history, you short lived toad! That's how we got into this mess in the first place!"

"Your resignation will be broadcast in three hours Ikki," Aethyta stated, sliding a data slate across to her. "Here's your speech. You're old, you're tired, and your ideas are staler than beer that's been sitting overnight. Get out."

_Swamp, here I come_. Ikki thought as she took the slate and stormed out. This was someone else's problem now.

_**Omega - Miranda Lawson**_

_**January 8th, 2164**_

"But Meeri, why I hafta where the suit?" Ori whined. "I don't like it all the times."

"Hush, it's OK," Miri Goldstein told her charge softly. "It's just for a few years, OK? We have to hide, or the bad people will find us."

"But I don't wanna hide," Ori pouted. "I wanna get out of dis."

Picking her sister up, Miri continued toward the clinic. "It's OK kiddo. Come on, Doc needs us today. You can play in the clean room if no one is using it. You can take your suit off there."

"Okies!" Ori agreed, resting her head on Miri's shoulder.

Miri smiled. It was going to be a hard life, raising her kid sister on Omega. But Doc was here too, he had opened a clinic for the refugees and other needy of Omega. Together, they could be a family.

"Hey, girly, what youse doin' round here? Dis is a dangerous place, youse could get hurts," a nasally batarian voice demanded from the shadows.

Without even turning to look, Miri unleashed a massive biotic throw in the voice's general direction and was rewarded with the sound of breaking bones and the thud of a body. That was the second time this week. Doc had said it might be rough the first few weeks, but after they killed enough people they would be left alone. Miri wasn't worried. She had family. They would get through this together.


	21. Chapter 21

_There is no instance of a nation benefitting from prolonged warfare.  
__-Sun Tzu__  
_

_**The Hollows, Tuchanka - Jak of Urdnot**_

_**January 6th 2164**_

Jak did her best to stand up tall and straight next to ma. She smoothed her white jerkin, watching it sparkle. It was imprinted with dyes made from the nefic plant in patters of flowers, and Jak thought it was very pretty. Her head was freshly shaved and oiled, and it gleamed in the sunlight that shone down upon the assembly gathered before the Hollows. Never before had so many krogan, from every clan, from the mighty Urdnot to the lowly Nakmor gathered in one place. The best part was, there was no fighting taking place at all. In fact, according to da, over a dozen blood feuds had been ended since the various clan chiefs and dignitaries had arrived.

That was something else that had never happened before. From what Jak had heard ma and da discussing, there was going to be an awful lot of firsts today.

"MAKE WAY!" Wreav bellowed as he bullied his way through the crowd leading up to the steps to the hollows "MAKE WAY FOR THE OVERLORD!"

Normally krogan didn't take kindly to being told to make way for anyone, but when they saw Wrex coming, they made way. He was already being hailed as the savior of the krogan people. Over the last few years he had solidified his power base. Jak new that, everyone did. No one messed with Wrex because he was the biggest, baddest krogan in existence. And no one was bigger or badder than a krogan. But now, Overlord Urdnot Wrex was more than just a unifier or battlemaster. He had been the leader that had found the salvation for the entire krogan race.

At that thought, Jak felt a slight pang. The Doctor was dead. So was the cherladra, and her little sister. Jak had cried when she heard about that, heard that they had been destroyed by pirates before their reward could ever be properly bestowed upon them. Well, da was going to fix that today.

Her da made his way up the stairs slowly and purposefully as the crowd bellowed and stomped wildly. Jak bowed deferentially, as was proper for a daughter. To her shock, da bowed right back. That was the first time he had done that... well, ever.

The krogan noticed the same thing, and the cheers died as murmurs of shock and surprised rippled out at the Overlord of Tuchanka's gesture. He bowed to no one, just as the krogan bowed to no people. What was the meaning of this?

Jak's face took on a concerned and frightened cast until she felt a comforting claw on her shoulder. She looked up to see ma smiling down, her veil lifted on this, the day of her peoples' salvation. "Peace, child. Your father knows what he is doing."

Nodding, Jak turned her attention back to da, who strode to the center stage. He spread his claws for silence, and a hush fell over the assembly.

"KROGAN OF TUCHANKA!" Wrex bellowed, his voice unamplified by anything save the acoustics of the Hollows. "Today, we celebrate our triumph over the Geneophage!"

A roar of approval shook the very earth as the people voiced their elation. Da let it continue for several seconds, then gestured again for silence. It was a bit longer in coming this time, but eventually everyone quieted down.

"We did not, however, attain this on our own. As you know, it was the League who gave us this, the greatest of gifts. Without their aid we would never have achieved freedom from our curse. I ask you, shall the krogan be ungrateful for this boon? Will we be like the Citadel, quick to forget when we are saved from the brink of extinction?"

"NO!" If the earth had shook at the krogan's approval, the skies themselves trembled at their rage. Jak herself yelled until she was blue in the face, furious at the thought that the krogan would be so dishonorable as to turn their backs on the League.

"When the krogan saved the Citadel, our reward was to be castrated. Treated like mere animals! I ask you again, shall we repay the League in the same manner?"

"NO!" this time the ancient foundations of the Hollows themselves were moved, and the structure swayed slightly from the ardor of the krogan's rejection.

Wrex nodded gravely. "Twice I have asked, and twice you have spoken. I ask the Council of Elders and the Shaman of Tuchanka now, how can we repay our debt? What oath may we swear that all the galaxy may know the depth of our conviction?"

The Council stepped forward, ma flanked by the most powerful and wise of all the krogan people. The Council of Elders.

"I know of but one way," ma intoned, "and it is not a path to be taken lightly. All the people must be in agreement. None may dissent, for it would dishonor our entire people if even one voice should be raised against it."

Jak frowned, glancing around at the guards and other dignitaries. They looked grave, though none of them seemed to know quite what ma was talking about. Jak wondered if this had been a part of her schooling she had skipped to go blast pyjaks or write about rainbows.

"Tell me, Shaman, what is this path you speak of?" da demanded.

"It is the most sacred of Blood Oaths. The Oath of Protection," ma replied.

A murmur arose from the crowd, one of confusion that mirrored Jak's own. No one seemed to have heard of the Oath of Protection. Everyone knew about Blood Oaths. The Oath of Vengeance, which Jak herself had spoken against Garm and the Batarians. The Oath of Loyalty, which a warrior spoke when he agreed to serve under a battlemaster. But the Oath of Protection? Jak had never heard of such an oath.

"I am ancient, Shaman," da stated before the crowd grew too restless. "But I have never heard of the Oath of Protection. Tell me, from whence have you learned of it?"

"Though you may be ancient indeed, Overlord, you do not have all the memories of our people. As the Shaman of Tuchanka, I do. I remember when first the krogan looked up the to skies and dreamed of conquest. I remember when the Dark Times came, when the eternal winter fell upon the land and we wrought ruin upon ourselves. I remember when the liars and thieves came in the night, to seduce our people into servitude. I remember. And I remember the Oath of Protection."

Wrex nodded thoughtfully. "And will you share your memories with your people, O Shaman?"

"I will. But if I do, the people must bind themselves to that memory. Memory is powerful, primal. It is what connects the past to the present, and the present to the future. Generation to generation, memory passes on. Will the people so swear themselves, to honor this memory and to bind themselves to it?"

"We so swear," the Eldars intoned, as was their right. They spoke for the krogan, and the krogan would abide by their strength and wisdom.

"We so swear," the people echoed, Jak among them. There was sense of connection, of power in this moment, as if the clans were no longer fractious children arguing over table scraps, but a single people that had been reformed as one.

Ma closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them, it was not ma who looked out from her soul. It was Tuchanka. The spirit of a people ancient and proud, one that had endured things that would have broken any other people a thousand times over. "Before the people grew proud, before they forsook all oaths, before brother killed brother and the land was poisoned with arrogance and rage, the people had honor. We kept that honor, and it grew within us, keeping us strong. When we forgot that honor and grasped for raw power, instead of strength in that power, we found only weakness. That power betrayed us into the hands of our enemies; we fell. If we do not find that honor again, this boon we have been given will sour and become a pox upon the galaxy and the people will destroy themselves and all other races. The galaxy will be ruined. It is we who shall be its ruin."

Silence hung over the air like a funeral shroud, and Jak could hear the rocks speak of a time when the people had had honor, when they had first been laid. A time long ago. A time that could come again.

Ma's eyes swept over the crowd, then over Jak, and all flinched underneath that timeless gaze, the gaze that had beheld an entire planet's history. The gaze of the Shaman of Tuchanka.

"PEOPLE! If you wish to reclaim that honor, you must bind yourselves with the Oath of Protection. You must swear to no longer be a danger to the galaxy, but its bulwark! It must be you who stands against the darkness that pervades. No longer shall you be a scourge upon the weak! You shall be their guardian, their protector. This burden will not rest solely upon you. It shall rest upon your children; those born thanks to the aid of the weak, those we must protect. Upon the shoulders of your children, and your children's children, and their children's children, until the stars are extinguished and the Last Battle is fought among their dying embers. But even then, this oath shall hold you! People, will you take up this oath for all time?"

Silence. No one stepped forth. Jak could barely conceive of next year most times, but to swear an oath for all time? An oath that would bind her and her children that she would bear with pride in the name of Clan Urdnot one day? She didn't know. Couldn't know. How could she even imagine something like that?

Out of the shadows, an ancient krogan stepped forth. The entire assembly held its breath. This was Jorgal Shaman, the most ancient of krogan from the most ancient of krogan breeding lines. If the Shaman of Tuchanka remembered the planet, Jorgal Shaman remembered the krogan.

"I too remember the oath of which you speak, Shaman of Tuchanka," Jorgal Shaman wheezed, leaning upon his apprentice and squinting eyes milky with age to see. "And I will swear it. So shall all those of my line, and all those that come after my line, and all those that will come from the line of my line. Unending, unbroken, till the last blow of the last battle, when all oaths are held fulfilled."

At the words of Jorgal shaman, Jorgal Brek, Clan Chief of Jorgal and son of Jorgal Shaman, stepped forward. "Upon the words of my father, I shall swear this Oath. All those of Clan Jorgal will bind themselves, and so they shall bind all that come after them."

A ripple ran through the assembly as every member of Clan Jorgal jumped in place, slamming their fists together in agreement. Clan Jorgal was not a large clan, but it was prestigious, with breeding lines that went back to the time before the Long Winter.

The acceptance of the Oath by Clan Jorgal was like a pebble that started an avalanche. Every clan leader and shaman, from the mightiest to the lowest, affirmed that they too would swear the oath. As the procession of leaders continued, Jak felt her heart swell with pride to be a krogan. She had seen the pain of her adoptive people, seen how lost and lonely they were. They had been without purpose, and now, that purpose was returning to them. The sun was nearly set by the time the last clan leader affirmed that her people too would swear the Oath of Protection. Jak was weak in the knees from standing for so long, but she did not tremble nor show weakness. Now was a time to be strong.

Finally, The Shaman of Tuchanka nodded once and raised her arms. "Then O people, swear this Oath and Hold to it." She turned to Jak and smiled. "Child, come forth. Though you are of the krogan, you will stand for those we swear this Oath to, for you are of their Blood."

Swallowing hard, Jak stepped forward and turned to face the assembly. A million eyes bored into her, and Jak forced herself to be calm and strong, as a daughter of Urdnot should be.

Ma's gentle claws laid themselves upon Jak's head, and in a loud, firm voice, she declared "'My blood before your blood, my children as a bondservant to yours, until claws dull and strength fades, to stand as a bulwark before you against your enemies.'"

Jak repeated the oath with the rest of the people, tears coming to her eyes at the power of the emotions washing over her. Not one krogan present abstained. For the first time in their entire history, the krogan were united in a single purpose. They would be the defenders of the League, of the humans and quarians, for all time. When they were in the right, when they were in the wrong, when they were weak, and when they were strong. From now until the breaking of the galaxy, the krogan would stand. And they would not fall back.

_**Arcturus - Urdnot Wrex**_

_**January 12th, 2164**_

"Well, I suppose I should have expected this much," Wrex growled, shifting through the various extranet articles and diplomatic notes before him. None of them were what he would call positive.

"The elcor, the volus, the hanar, even Illium. They've all shifted stances rather rapidly," Admiral Kasteen Dresher agreed. "In fact, I think it's safe to say that this is going to be the first time the volus actually build a dreadnaught."

Wrex snorted. "Gee, wonder why they're doing that."

"It could be worse you know," Kasteen observed leaning back in her chair. "They could have unilaterally declared war."

Vexxu shrugged. "They're pretty damn close. That's why Steven's out conducting 'maneuvers' in the DMZ.'"

"Whatever friends we've made in Citadel Space, we seem to have lost them all," Dresher agreed.

Wrex scowled around the table, until Vexxu reached over and patted his arm. "We don't regret it Wrex, even if there are a few elements in the League that would have preferred a partial cure. The League stands by its friends."

"Easy to say that now that the Genophage is cured. What would you have said before that, I wonder?" Wrex demanded.

"I would have said the same thing, and you know it," Vexxu stated flatly. "So would my husband, Zaal, and, Kasteen," Wrex noticed she pointedly did not mention the Prime Minister, "we all believe in the Bill of Rights and in the krogan people. We've fought alongside you, we trust you."

After a moment, Wrex relented and nodded. "Alright, I believe you. That doesn't change the fact that we've just lost every ounce of galactic goodwill we had. For a while there, it even looked like we might drag a few of the neutral planets or minor races over to our side. Now though..."

"Now we know who our friends are," Kasteen growled. "The question is, now that we know who the friendlies are, what does that make everyone else?"

"Dangerous, at the very least," Wrex rumbled. "The batarians especially. They're still pretty pissed at the League in general. They haven't forgiven us for settling all that juicy territory or kicking their pirating asses right out of the Traverse and the Terminus."

Vexxu shook her head. "Maybe, but they were a cat's paw before. If they strike again, we both know it won't be of their own volition."

"But we can't afford to openly blame the Council if they do. Damn them!" Kasteen snarled, slamming a fist down on the table.

"Give us sixteen or seventeen years," Wrex rumbled. "That's when all the new krogan will reach maturity. Then we'll see what the projections say."

Vexxu's eyes bored into Wrex. "That may be, Overlord. But the Council knows that as well."

_**The Citadel - Councilor Valern**_

_**January 13th, 2164**_

Valern tried to keep from blinking constantly, but it was hard. His membranes were drying rapidly thanks to his nervousness, and they would turn red or itch if he didn't keep them moist. But he had to stand strong. To prove that the salarians were still a capable member of the Council, especially after the disaster that Ikki had turned out to be. And the humiliation that Solus had brought. Damn him.

"The Salarian Union believes that the League now represents nothing more than a ticking time bomb, Councilors," he stated evenly, not bothering to glance down at his data slate. "We have also determined that at this point, war would be disastrous. While the Citadel would surely triumph, it has come to our attention that the League has perfected its own mass relays. They are short range, and at this point, only two have completed construction. Those two however, are pointed at Palaven and Thessia. A third pointed directly at Sur'Kesh is nearing completion. While those relays have been confirmed not to have the capacity to be used directly as weapons of war, they would still allow a League fleet to bombard our homeworlds , causing untold casualties. This is an unacceptable situation."

Across from him, Sapias and Aethyta perked up. That was good. They appeared to be taking him seriously.

Sapias' mandibles spread in what could either be amusement or surprise. "You seem remarkably well informed, Councilor Valern. And articulate."

"Thank you," Valern interjected as soon as Sapias paused, "But I am not finished. The various military and intelligence organs of the STG have analyzed the situation and reached several conclusions. The first is that any attempt at creating some sort of shadow army, especially via the uplifting of other species, would create more problems than it solves. The second is that any shadow armies currently in existence should be held in reserve for the proper time," Valern pointedly did not look at Aethyta when he mentioned said shadow armies, "and that our own actions for the moment should be limited to a defensive role."

"A salarian, preaching defense?" Aethyta asked, raising one of her eyelines. "Are you sure you're Ikki's replacement?"

"Indeed I am," Valern answered evenly. "Unlike Ikki, my military experience is more direct. I was an Executive Member of the Czerka Corporation, as you well know." Which was as good as saying, 'I was a master spy who wasn't afraid to get my hands dirty.'

"Defenses are all well and good," Sapias agreed slowly, "but wars are not won with stationary defenses or fleets in orbit."

"Agreed," Valern stated, blinking furiously. "What we propose instead are a series of measures designed to cripple the League. First, the batarians. As misguided as their original pirate attacks were, they are physically closest to the League. They are also the most corrupt and easily guided of our races, not to mention the most violent. They can be trusted, to a degree. I do not propose a second pirate campaign at this time however. What I do propose is a slow buildup of the batarians forces, possibly with the allure of a Council seat if they are willing to do our bidding. They will be the bait."

"The bait?" Aethyta asked, leaning forward slightly.

"Indeed. When the time comes, I propose we create an incident that would lead to hostilities between the batarians and the League. When the League moves against them, we take the opportunity to cripple the League's offensive relays using the stealth ships still in development. Then we launch our own strike on the League, preferably on Arcturus, to cripple its chain of command. This is not a short term plan. The soonest it could be safely enacted according to the STG's calculations is seven years, eight or nine years would be preferable."

That really got Aethyta's attention. "You're seriously proposing a plan that could take up to a decade to reach fruition?"

Valern nodded. "Yes. As you have likely noted, I am the youngest salarian ever appointed to the Council seat. This is because this entire operation is my plan. The Union intends to pursue it, with or without our allies' aid. However, we believe that our chances of success alone are suboptimal. Now is not the time for division, but unity. Obviously, the specifics of Operation Encore will need to be worked out between us, and modifications made to the timetable and details as new events arise."

Leaning back, Valern studied the other two Councilor's, flicking his membranes one final time as he desperately tried to slow his pulse. He had laid all his cards on the table. And on their first meeting.

For a moment, he feared his plan was to be rejected, that he had failed in his task of restoring salarian dignity before he even truly began. But then Sapias and Aethyta both nodded.

"That's quite the plan, Valern," Aethyta said. "I think I have a few projects I can bring to your attention that might improve its chances of success. But it will work, in broad terms."

Sapias' mandibles spread in amusement. "Finally, we get a decent salarian councilor to work with. I think we just might get along, Valern."

Doing his best not to grin, Valern nodded. The Citadel would stand, and the barbarians would be crushed, as they always were. That was the natural order of things.

_**Baker Street, Watson - Berr'Reegar**_

_**January 21st, 2164**_

"You got everything you need for school today, Kal?" Berr asked, handing his son a hermetically sealed lunch box with his sterile meal.

"Yes sir, I have my homework in my folder, my pencils, and now I have my lunch box," Kal answered respectfully. "Do you think you'll be able to pick me up today?"

Smiling, Berr reached down and ruffled his son's hair. It was still amazing to be able to do that. They were both suitless, here at home. Kal's baby sister wouldn't even need a suit; she would be able to go without from the moment of her birth. One of the many benefits of being in the League. "I think I can manage that son."

"Awesome," Kal grinned. He was at a good age, at eight years old he was still excited that his dad was able to pick him up from school and go on campouts with the Cub Scout pack.

"Come on Kal, it's time to go," Berr's wife, Yllina called, coming around the corner.

"'Kay, coming!" Kal shouted, scooping up his mask and sealing it as he ran out to the car.

Berr took a moment to kiss his wife goodbye and take their younger son, Rael. "He needs to be changed," Yllina grimaced as she passed over the smelly bundle.

"Hey, I can take care of it, not like I'm getting deployed now is it?" Berr laughed, patting Yllina's swelling womb.

His wife frowned at the joke, she still wasn't happy that Berr had been discharged, even if he had found a new job. "Alright, you're picking Kal up from school today?"

"Yep, I'll have plenty of time after the vid conference this morning. I don't leave on business for another two days," Berr confirmed.

"Alright, see you this evening," Yllina called, slipping her own mask on and heading out the front door.

Once Berr had seen to the diaper, he put his son in the playpen by his workstation and brought up his latest reports. He wasn't surprised that there were a dozen urgent messages in his inbox. He clicked the first one and read through it quickly. It was just an interoffice memo reminding everyone not to share any of their information on an unsecured uplink. Berr snorted, you would have to be a bosh'tet to do something like that.

The next message he read was more important, a message from Cerberus command. That was what Black Whirlwind was, a front company for the League's blackest project. The message was marked HARVEST. Berr dutifully stood and moved the play pen into the next room. It was highly unlikely his ten month old son could overhear anything, but that wasn't what bothered Berr. He was more worried about the phenomena known as Indoctrination. It was why he was still working offsite; command wasn't sure what Berr's brief exposure to the Reaper corpse might have done to him. They were still running tests, and Berr wouldn't be allowed access to any delicate equipment until he'd been run through every test the doctors could come up with.

So far, he had passed them all. But sometimes, late at night, he awoke in a cold sweat, the last fading echoes of a whisper he couldn't hear at the edge of thought. He reported each and every incident dutifully, and as far as the doctors could tell it wasn't anything but nightmares and an overactive imagination. Still, from the intel Berr was reading, he supported the idea of caution.

Once his son was safely out of the way, Berr clicked on the message. To his surprise, a comm link connection came up, and in a few moments, the face of Falvus Vakarian appeared.

"Berr," Flavus said immediately, nodding to him. "Good to see you again."

Berr started to say something, and Flavus held up a talon. "No, I'm not supposed to be here. Don't say my name, or the recording equipment I'm sure they have hooked up to monitor you will pick it up. For now I'm scrambling the feed to make me look and sound like something else to the computers, but I can't be sure how long I have."

Berr folded his arms and scowled. "Give me one good reason I shouldn't just report this."

Flavus' mandibles twitched in irritation. "Because this is too important for us to work against each other on. All my channels into the League have been cut off thanks to the Genophage cure. Its ridiculous in my opinion, it's the Citadel's own fault that the krogan ran straight into your arms. We should have helped them out a long time ago. But that's no longer relevant. What is relevant are the Reapers. Tell me, according to your dating, when was the last visit from the Reapers?"

"About 50,000 years ago, when the Protheans vanished," Berr answered, frowning slightly. He still wasn't sure if he should be telling Flavus anything, but that was common enough knowledge.

Flavus nodded. "And before them, the Inusannon. That was 100,000 years ago. Know of any other races that vanished?"

"Well, 250,000 years ago that race on Bexxi Prime disappeared. And the Zeioph on Armeni about 400,000 years ago," Berr listed, ticking off two other races that were fairly common knowledge.

Leaning a big closer to the pickup, Flavus demanded, "And what if I told you that I know of a race that disappeared 150,000 years ago, and another that vanished 350,000 years ago. What would that tell you?"

"They're all multiples of 50,000," Berr answered reflexively, then sucked in his breath. "Oh shit."

"Indeed," Flavus agreed. "We're due for a bad case of Reapers any decade now."

"We don't know that for certain," Berr countered, trying to think.

"You're a soldier Berr, just like me. What does your gut tell you?" Flavus needled.

Shaking his head, Berr muttered, "That we're in some deep shit here. We don't know if it's gonna be in the next couple of years, or in the next couple of hundred years. But they're coming back."

"My conclusions exactly. Any if they did come back today, they'd find a galaxy ripe for the taking. We're so busy getting ready to kill each other we'd never stand up to the Reapers. You saw that ship Berr, felt it's power. What do you think we need to do?"

"I don't know," Berr admitted. "I have a hard time trusting you Council types. The Council did us wrong for a long time, you know that."

"Yes," Flavus's mandibles lifted in a grimace. "And frankly, it might be too late to rectify things. I won't lie to you Berr, if I had a chance to cripple the League, I would take it. I believe in the Council, even after all their mistakes."

"Your people, right or wrong," Berr agreed.

"Precisely. When it comes to the Reapers however, I'll pass on what data I can. Currently I don't have much, accept for this. Your people might want to start digging on Eden Prime. We both know it was a major Prothean world, but I keep finding references to it in the information I've come across. Something about the Avatar. It sounds like a weapon."

"You'd give us a weapon?" Berr asked, raising an eyebrow. "We could turn it on you."

"Maybe," Flavus admitted, "But every instance I've found points to the Avatar being a weapon solely aimed at the Reapers. It might be an anti-synthetic device, in fact, I'm nearly positive it is. You couldn't very well use that against the Citadel."

"No, probably not," Berr admitted. "And if we had something like that, we might even get drawn into a long, bloody, war with the geth."

"Perhaps," Flavus admitted. "But I think a weapon like that would be rather effective against the Reapers, don't you?"

"Maybe. Thanks for the heads up anyway." Berr hesitated, then added, "And if I hear anything about the Reapers I think you need to know, I'll pass it along."

"I'll be in touch," Flavus said, spreading his mandibles in a grin. "Vakarian out."

The connection vanished, and BERR sat there for a moment, drumming his fingers on the interface. He didn't think he was quite ready to read any more memos just yet. Instead, Berr walked into the room where he had dumped his son; he was happily playing with a ball in his play pen. Rael looked up when his father entered the room, his large luminescent eyes dancing with delight as he laughed and stretched out a tiny three fingered hand toward his father. Berr knelt and took the hand in his own, squeezing it and smiling down at his son.

"I won't let them get you," Berr whispered fiercely, gazing into his son's eyes. His children would have a future. He would make certain of that.

_**The Bahak System - Balak**_

_**February 10th, 2164**_

Grimacing, Balak bent down to examine the skull pile. They weren't really skulls, scans had determined that much, they were some sort of metallic compound made of organic substances, according to the scans. That didn't make much sense to Balak, but he was management. He didn't have to understand.

"Damn jumpy slaves," Balak growled, glancing around the well lit chamber. The slaves refused to do any work at all unless they had all kinds of lighting, and an armed overseer was present. It was damned unusual for a slave to want an armed overseer around, but all of them were much happier when an armed batarian was watching them. Watching their backs, as they put it. Those measures were raising Balak's costs immensely.

"This had better be worth it," he growled, reaching down to touch a skull. There didn't seem to be

**YOU SHALL SERVE AS WELL**

Balak jumped, spinning around to see who else was in the chamber with him. No one. This chamber had already been cleared and examined. He frowned, blinking both sets of eyes in consternation.

_cannot get out cannot be free trapped for all eternity_

All of Balak's pores opened, venting panic hormones as he edged towards the exit. What the hell was going on?

**YOU CANNOT ESCAPE. WE ARE ETERNAL. WE ARE EVERYWHERE. IN EVERY DREAM. **

Balak tripped over something, knocking his head against the floor panel and passed out.

_**T͝h̸̢e̸ ́Ba͝h͢͞a͞k̶ ̸S͞yst͏e̶͠m̴̧ ҉- ̕͜B̸͜a̶l̨͞a҉k**__**  
**__**̢͜͞Fe͝br̴͏̵u̴a͟͡r̢̛y̨ ̵̶͜1͜0͢͜͢t̸̵h̸̴̵, ͜21̴̶6̷̧4́**_

S͞a̸re͢n͏ ̛͞y̛͞o͠u̕ ͠bas͢͞t̨͟àr̸d͘,̕͢ ̷́y͝ò̸u̢͢ ̛͡l͏e̷d͡͞ ̛͞t̡͝h͘e̕͢͡m̶̨̀ ͏ri̶̵͟ǵ͠h͞t̕͢҉ ̡͝t̕o̵̴ ͜us͞!͜͟ ̷͠T͏h̸i̛s̡ ̴i̷̡sn'͞t ̡͢͞wo̴̧r̷t̴h͟ ìt̴̀,̵ w̸h̀͜at͞ ̴h҉͠ą͏v͢e͘ ͠͞Į҉ ̢͜d͢҉o͘͢n̵e̢!̶ ̵̛Ì̀ ha͏͏̶ve̷͞ ͘͢͠to̸͢ ̀͟wa̵̵r̡͘n̸̨ ̷̶t̶͟h̀͢͏e͟͞m̢҉͜,͞ ̛҉h̡͞a̷͞͠v͠é͟ ͟t̵̛o̧ ̨̕t͝èl̕l ̛t͏̛͞h̶ę̧͠m͘,͜ Ì ̸̧͝c̷͜͟a̡̛n̵'́̀͠t҉̛.͠..͞ ̴͏O͠͞h̴͡ g̶͘҉o͜͞d̡͢s̡̛̀, ͡͠I̷͝ ̵̡ca̶ń̢'t̡͡.̸.̶̛͞.͘ ͏͡F͘͝o͢rg͜͡i͠v̢̀è҉̷ me͏,͜͞ ͝I͡ ͘h̨a҉v͟e ̧͠f̷ai̸̶҉led͜͝.͠ ̷̕

Balak stood and dusted himself off. How clumsy he had been! He laughed softly, grinning widely. He knew just how to handle the slaves now! They just had to spend the night on the ship, sleeping around the statues or piles! That would take care of everything. The overseers would have to do the same of course. Then he had to find Saren, and tell him the wonderful news. Balak had seen the truth as well.

He served the Cycle.

_**ILS Saint Thomas Aquinas - Steven Hackett**_

_**March 4th, 2164**_

Hackett couldn't help but grin fiercely at his command display. "The tables have turned, you metal headed bastards," he growled.

"Heh. Heh. Heh. Feels good, doesn't it Admiral?" Observer Weyrloc Guld chuckled as he stepped up beside Hackett.

"Indeed it does," Hackett agreed, keeping his eye on the turian patrol that was steering well clear of the No Man's Land the League had established around the krogan systems.

"Bet they'd love to come in and give us another dose of Genophage," Guld growled, showing his teeth in a grim facsimile of a smile.

"Let them try," Hackett snarled. "They've had their time in the sun. Now it's our turn. They dare not attack us, not with the existence of STARGATE an open secret."

"Bet they'd love to get their hands on that tech," Guld agreed. "'Course, from the briefings I've read, they're pretty damn close to perfecting their own mass relays. If you ask me, we should jump on them now before they have the chance to build their own Relays."

Hackett shook his head. "No, not yet. They've got the numerical advantage, and our tech is just about even aside from our relays. Any fleet we sent through would be stuck, even if we did raise Palavan, Thessia and Sur'Kesh, they've got too much strategic depth. We can't wipe out all their major fleet concentrations at once. But we can put a gun to their head and let them know if they come for us, we will hurt them so badly it will take them 10,000 years to recover."

"Hell, it only took the krogan 1200!" Guld laughed, then he sobered. "My people owe yours a debt, Admiral. One we can never repay. I swore the Oath of Protection along with every other warrior. 'My blood before your blood, my children as a bondservant to yours, until claws dull and strength fades, to stand as a bulwark before you against your enemies.'"

"The League isn't interested in slaves nor servants, Guld," Hackett answered. He was repeating himself, for about the seventh time now. "We want partners. Allies. Equals."

Guld snorted. "What you want doesn't matter. Did you know, I once longed for death? To lay dying atop a pile of my enemies' corpses and to spit my defiance in the face of the galaxy? Now I have purpose, Admiral. No longer must I watch cold hearted as the females bring yet another tiny corpse to lay atop the mountain of the neverborn. Soon, I will hold in my arms my own offspring and my battle cry will wake the mountains! It will be a cry of joy, Admiral. Not one of sorrow, like my father's and grandfathers'. Once again, my people will be strong."

"We'll be strong together Guld," Hackett stated. "Alone, we're weak, powerless. The Citadel kept you that way for a long time. Cut off from all others, friendless. Humanity's story would have been much like yours. If not for the Belari."

"The Belari," Guld rolled the word, thinking hard on it. "Yes, the Belari. Perhaps that is what I should name my firstborn. That way, even the krogan shall remember the Belari."

Hackett slapped Guld on the back, not bothering to hide the tears that came to his eyes. "I remember the Belari everyday Guld. And I thank God that my people found friends like you among the stars."

Guld just grunted, staring back at the plot. He shook his head. "Friends. A simple word. Yet it means so much."

_Authors Note: _

_And so, the end of the beginning is here at last. Meek isn't over yet, and several major revelations and changes are still in store before Commander John Shepard, Tali'Zorah, and Specter Garrus Vakarian ever set out to end the Cycle. Next chapter, we'll check in with the trio of main characters. I hope you've enjoyed the journey to this point as much as I have, and I look forward to finishing it with those of you who have been with me the entire time, those of you how have joined since, and those of you that will join in the future. It's going to be a wild ride ;)_


	22. Chapter 22

_"If we are to teach real peace in this world, and if we are to carry on a real war against war, we shall have to begin with the children."_

_-__Mahatma Gandhi_

_**Hadrian, Palavan - Garrus Vakarian**_

_**April 17th, 2164**_

"League Lover!" someone shouted from behind, and Garrus relaxed. Not because it was comforting to hear, but because he knew what was coming next. When the push came, Garrus didn't resist it. Instead, he allowed the energy to carry him forward into a spin, as his talons slashed out toward the face of his tormenter.

"Barefaced human lover!" Odius snarled, touching a talon to scores Garrus had left on his face.

"Come at me, bro," Garrus snarled, dropping his shoulder bag to the floor and assuming the stance his father had taught him for hand to hand fighting. His mandibles spread in a display of strength and aggression, but inside he wilted. There were four of them this time. How could he hope to take on four?

As the ring leader, Odius stepped forward, his own mandibles dropped in a sneer. "Whatcha gonna do, League Lover? Where's your principles now? Shooting your mouth off in class about the Genophage like that, what kind of turian are you?"

"The kind my father raised me to be," Garrus replied, watching carefully as Odius' cronies spread out in a rough semi circle. He was going to be beaten to within an inch of his life if he didn't think of something, and soon.

"FOR THE HONOR OF CLAN VAKARIAN!" Two voices shouted, and twin blurs slammed into Odius' group from the rear. Garrus' mandibles parted in delight and sprang forward; the odds were even now.

He drove a fist hard into Odius' vulnerable midsection, then head butted the larger boy, driving him to the ground. He spun just in time to claw another delinquent that was trying to ambush Solana while she was taking on a third boy. "Fancy you being here Sol," Garrus panted as he went back to back with his sister.

"Don't thank me," she answered, assuming her own guard posture. "Thank your crazy friend."

"Sup Garr?" Sidonis waved, then yanked hard on the mandible he was gripping. "Hey, dumbass, what did I tell you about messing with my buddy?"

"Screw you Sidonis!" Wailed the youth who was being tormented.

In response, Sidonis yanked on the mandible even harder. "I'm sorry, what was that? I think what you meant was, I said I'd kick your ass."

Odius shoved himself to his feet and looked around at his gang. They were all beaten and bruised, and with a whimper he beat a hasty retreat.

"Go on, get," Sidonis snarled, letting go of the mandible he had been gripping. The other boy stood and fled, he wasn't interested in a fight that wasn't heavily in his favor.

"Thanks, I owe you guys," Garrus said, stooping to pick up his bag.

Solana bent and grabbed the bag before he could. "That's the second time this month I've had to bail you out Garrus. When are you going to learn not to shoot your mouth off in class?"

"When I stop being right," Garrus snapped as he snatched the bag away from his older sister.

"Woah, hey bro, calm down," Sidonis laughed, coming over and putting an arm around Garrus. "At least he had the good sense to do it in the period he had with me, right Sol?"

"I guess," Solana answered, her mandibles twitching slightly in amusement. "Last time he did it when no one but his enemies were around and he got pounded into the dirt."

"See?" Sidonis laughed, leading Garrus off towards the Vakarian family home. "He was exhibiting whatcha call it, tactile sense?"

"Tactical sense," Garrus corrected automatically.

Winking at him, Sidonis laughed again. "Yeah, that's the stuff. Smoke out the people who want to beat up on ya. Which so far, seems to be everyone but me and Sol."

Garrus shrugged, he wasn't quite sure what to say in response to that.

"Aren't you worried about yourself Sidonis?" Solana asked as they headed home. "You're not exactly popular with the other kids either."

"Eh, I ain't worried," Sidonus replied, waving a hand dismissively. "Everyone already calls me a barefaced bastard 'cause my mom works at the League Embassy. I mean, she's a cook for crying out loud! But whatever."

"I think it's 'cause I saved your ass twice," Garrus teased, jabbing a knuckle into Sidonis' side.

"Well that almost makes up for the four times I've saved your tail since then!" Sidonis hooted.

They continued to laugh and tease until they got home. Sidonis lived in the same apartment block as Garrus and Solana, so they walked Sidonis to his front door and made sure he was safe. Once, they had split as soon as they reached the apartment's entrance, only for Sidonis to get jumped as soon as he was out of sight.

Sidonis' door closed and Solana smacked the back of Garrus' head, hard.

"Owwww," Garrus whined, glaring up at his older sister.

She just glared back down at him. "What the hell, Garr? You know we're supposed to all walk home together. What's with this lone varren crap?"

"Sorry, I guess I was just angry," Garrus muttered, looking down at the floor. "They were talking in Ethics about how we should create a Genophage for humans and quarians, and how justified it was. I couldn't help it! You know what dad's taught us, they're sentients too. We have to find a way to live together, not kill each other off."

"I know that, graphite for brains," Solana sighed. "I'm just smart enough not to say that in a room full of kids that already hate my guts."

Garrus mumbled something a child his age really shouldn't have known, and earned himself another smack upside the head.

When they got home the siblings' antagonistic mood evaporated. "Dad!" Garrus shouted, running forward to nuzzle his father.

"How's my favorite son doing today?" their father asked, scratching Garrus under the chin, just where he liked it.

"OK," Garrus answered.

"He almost got beat up. Again," Solana tattled, coming up to nuzzle their father as well.

Dad turned thoughtful eyes on Garrus. "Oh? And what was it this time, defending the humans' right to assert military independence?"

"They were talking about a Genophage for Leaguers," Garrus answered, scowling at his sister.

"And what did you have to say on the subject?" Father demanded, folding his arms.

"I told them they were wrong!" Garrus burst, throwing his arms up in consternation and storming across the room to the cooler. "I told them that every species has a right to existence, and that it's our job to find a way to live together peacefully instead of finding ways to blow each other up. Four guesses as to how that went over, and the first three don't count."

Continuing to fume, Garrus threw open the cooler door and stared into its depths, trying to decide if he actually wanted a snack or if he just wanted the cool air to help him relax. He felt a steady pressure on his shoulder and tensed, but relaxed as his father started to speak. "Garrus, I want you to know I'm proud of you. I know I'm not around often, and I regret that. But it's good to see that despite my best efforts, your turning into the best kind of turian. I might find your methods a bit suspect, but I know your heart is good."

Garrus' throat seemed to swell shut, and he croaked out, "Thanks, dad."

Talons scratched his head frills affectionately, and Garrus relaxed slightly. "Just try not to pick any more fights with kids who outweigh you by a factor of more than 1.5, OK son?"

Garrus managed a laugh and nodded, looking up at his father. "Ok, dad."

_**Jump Zero - Johnny Shepard**_

_**May 29th, 2164**_

"Hey, your ass is grass this time Shepard!"

"Dragon Team? MORE LIKE DRAGGIN' TEAM!"

"Yo Shepard, will your face still be famous after we drag it through the dirt for an hour?"

Johnny grinned and put a hand to his mouth. "Hey Dragons, why do they call them Team Tiger?"

"CAUSE THEY FIGURED TEAM LAME SOUNDED TOO COOL FOR THEM!" Johnny's squad roared back, then started in on their own catcalls.

Ignoring the ruckass, Johnny nodded politely to Van'Olors, one of the Tiger squad leaders they would be facing in the Rumble Room today. "Ready to get your ass kicked Olors?"

"Funny, I was gonna ask you the same thing!" Van shot back, but then he grinned. "Should be interesting. The two squads with the best records this season going up against each other. I'd call this dress rehearsal for the finals, but what do I know?"

"It's a good guess," Johnny agreed. "Dragon and Tiger armies seem to be doing pretty good."

Olors snorted. "Yeah, and I'm sure that you and your partner in crime got nothing to do with that."

Johnny looked innocently at Olors, "I have no idea what you mean."

Before they could say anything else, someone shouted, "Grandmaster on deck!"

Instantly, the catcalls ceased and every single student braced to attention, Johnny included.

"At ease," Shali'Otorus stated, striding to the front of the two squads. "Squad Leaders Shepard, Olors, I take it your squads are ready?"

"Yes Grandmaster!" the two boys chorused, nodding emphatically.

Shali's eyes danced behind her mask, and she nodded. "Excellent. General Kaiden, General Urteg."

The generals of Dragon and Tiger army stepped forward, clasping hand to claw. They wouldn't be participating in today's game as it was a squad level exercise only, but they were there as observers and coaches.

"May the best team win," Kaiden declared, smiling easily up at his krogan counterpart.

Urteg answered with a grin of his own. "We intend to."

Shepard glanced over at the Tiger squad, where a bald girl had just stepped forward. She bared her teeth at Johnny, and he bared his teeth right back. He and Jak might be friends in their off time, but when it came to the Rumble Room, all bets were off. Jak hadn't been around long, having arrived in the last few months, but she had quickly established herself as one of the strongest and most disciplined of the students. She had even broken Johnny's record for the fastest student to achieve the rank of Jedi Master. Of course, she had trained with her father, the great Urdnot Wrex himself, for years before coming to Brain Camp. But that only added to her prestige.

"Today's game is Retrieval," Grandmaster Shali announced. "There are eight objectives, scattered throughout the Room. Each objective is worth a variable number of points, based on the difficulty of obtaining the objective and its proximity to a team's own goal line. Some objectives are worth more to one team than another, so choose which your team will pursue carefully. Squad leaders, any questions?"

"No ma'am," Johnny and Van chorused.

Shali nodded gravely. "Very well. Teams to your hatches. May the Force be with you-"

"Always!" The children roared, running to their respective teams entry portal.

Once they were in position, Johnny turned to his squad. "Right, Harrington, Talis, you're our scouts. Get in there, locate the objects, and report back with their positions. If you can snag an objective, do it, but your primary goal is intel. Don't let the enemy catch you."

"Got it!"

"Vouga, you're goal tender. Don't let anyone get the objectives we've already secured."

"They shall not pass."

"Taylor, Yolo, you're retrieval. Grab the objectives the scouts locate."

"You got it boss."

"Xing, you're with me. Power forward."

"Sounds like fun."

"Ready?"

"Yes sir!"

"WHOS GONNA KICK THOSE PUSSY CATS RIGHT OUT THE AIRLOCK!"

"DRAGON TEAM! SQUAD 3!"

The light on the entry portal blinked from red to green, and the scouts went in first, using their biotics to accelerate themselves to insane speeds as they ran through the glowing neon colors of the corridors to locate the objectives. Johnny and Xing were next, sticking together as they used their biotics to blast themselves up to the top to where they could have a clear line of sight

As Johnny scrambled up the black panels highlighted with various neon colors, he kept his eyes out for anything that might be an objective. What the objectives were changed from game to game. Once they had been glowing stars, another time they had been large beach balls, and still another time students from another army that actively resisted being returned to the scoring line. That one had been really hard; in the end Johnny's team had won only because both he and Xing were able to pull off a stasis that lasted long enough to keep the students behind Dragon's goal line to win.

"I think I've found an objective," Talis called over their coms, "looks like some sort of boulder covered with those lights you humans put up for one of your holidays."

"How big are they?" Johnny demanded.

"Pretty damn big boss, I'd have to concentrate pretty hard with my biotics to move one, though I think Taylor and Yolo could move one pretty fast on their own, they're better than me or Harrington at moving stuff that isn't us."

"I found one too, but I'm grabbing it. It's small enough that I can just pick it up and carry it," Yolo reported.

Johnny glanced at Xing. "How much you wanna bet the big ones are worth way more points?"

She just grinned back. "No bet boss."

They took off over the glowing roof tops, trying to keep to cover as much as possible. As power forwards, their job was to get into enemy territory and do their best to prevent the other team from scoring. Or, if possible, to steal the objectives they had already recovered and get them back to their own side. Xing and Johnny both had biotics well suited to that role, namely stasis and singularity. Those were the only moves allowed against another student as it was against the rule to actually hurt anyone. Well, someone could get dropped by a singularity or a stray warp or throw could detonate one, but that was why the students wore protective gear.

Just as Johnny and Xing prepared to leap down onto Tiger's side of the field, a massive singularity bloomed in front of them, cutting them off. Johnny spun and unleashed a stasis in the general direction the singularly had come from, then grunted in annoyance as Jak danced out of the way of his attack.

"Too slow Shepard!" she teased as she sprinted off towards Dragon's own side.

Xing arched an eyebrow at Johnny; his rivalry with the girl was well known. "Ah, let her go, Vouga can handle her," Johnny ordered. "Come on, let's find another way down."

It didn't take long to find another hole, and Johnny lowered Xing down with his biotics.

"Clear!" she shouted once she had reached the floor, and Johnny floated down on a cushion Xing made for him. They clambered down a ladder, and found themselves face to face with a massive ball with green glowing Christmas lights inside of it.

"Think that's an objective boss?" Xing laughed.

Johnny nodded, grinning widely. "Yep, and its sure to be worth a ton of points for our side. Come on, you haul, I'll defend."

Xing dutifully lifted the ball, grunting with the effort. "Damn, this thing weighs a ton."

"We'll switch off if we have to," Johnny assured her. "Come on."

They hadn't gotten far when Van ran around the corner, a small ball with blue Christmas lights tucked under his arm. He skidded to a stop and threw up a barrier just in time to deflect Johnny's stasis.

"Bosh'tet!" the quarian boy shouted, then let out a squeak when he floated a few inches off the ground. His barrier waivered; Johnny ran forward and tackled Van, snatching the ball out of his hands then hitting him with a stasis. He glanced up to see Harrington waving at him from above.

"Nice one Johnny!"

"You too, here catch!" Johnny called, throwing the ball back up to the girl. "Get that back home ASAP!"

"On it!"

Turning back to Xing who had continued her slow progress, Johnny asked, "Need a break?"

"Nah, I'm good, you focus up," Xing grunted.

They continued their way through the corridors without seeing anyone else, though the sounds of battle and the comm chattered indicated that fierce struggles over the other objectives had arisen. None of the students could use their more powerful biotics on the other team, nothing that could cause actual physical harm. Instead, they had to play games of keep away or physically block the other team from reaching their goal. Various small skirmishes were won or lost as the teams tired quickly. The children could only keep up continuous use of their biotics for so long, and often a student would simply bow out when they were too exhausted to keep up the continual strain of playing tug of war with an opponent. It was all in good fun, and while both teams wanted to win, they all knew better than to push themselves too far and risk burning out or injury.

Johnny and Xing were nearing their goal line, having switched off a few minutes before when Xing signaled she needed a break. When they were only a few dozen meters from scoring, a stasis stabbed out from above and froze Xing in place. Johnny dropped his burden and raised a barrier just in time to deflect a stasis directed at him. He thumbed his emergency button, hoping that someone was around with enough juice left to come to his aid.

"Damn Johnny, you look tired. Why don't you take a break and let me have that big old ball your carrying around?" Jak laughed, floating down from the upper level and waggling a finger at Johnny. "That thing probably not worth much to my team. That's why I let it be when I found it. I figured it's worth a ton to yours though. But there's only three minutes left on the clock. And I just have to keep you from scoring with it."

Johnny grunted. Jak was probably right. She had likely even guided him and Xing in the direction of the big objective, trusting they would waste their strength on getting it for their own side instead of focusing on disrupting Jak's own teams efforts. They had spent so much energy on this particular objective that if Johnny didn't retrieve it, Jak's team would likely win.

"So, you gonna hide behind that like an asari, or face me like a warrior?" Jak demanded, waggling a finger at Johnny.

Glancing at his HUD, Johnny grinned and dropped his barrier. "Let's Rumble!"

He charged forward toward Jak, laying down a singularity and using its lack of gravity to spring upward and vault off the ceiling. "THE ENEMY'S GATE IS DOWN!" Johnny roared, using the ancient battle cry of Dragon Team.

Jak was waiting for him, and Johnny rebounded off a barrier and rolled across the floor, coming up and dodging to the side as Jak impacted where he had lain microseconds before. They slammed into one another, each trying to wrestle the other to the ground, then sprang apart and unleashed biotic attacks on one another. They continued to dance around the room, but Johnny was running out of juice. He had already used up a lot of his energy, and Jak was obviously still pretty fresh. He glanced over to where Xing lay, then smiled and bent a knee.

"I give, I'm drained," he panted.

Jak hit him with a stasis anyway and raised her arms in triumph, letting out a bestial roar. "Woo! I win, I'm the best!"

The buzzer sounded, and Jak let Johnny out of the stasis and helped him up. "Good bad you couldn't get that juicy objective."

"The game is over. Dragon team wins, 24-14," Grandmaster Shali's voice announced.

Jak's jaw dropped. "What! No way."

Johnny grinned and pointed. "I didn't get the objective Jak. But Vouga did."

Groaning, Jak turned to look. She had been so wrapped up in beating Johnny, she had completely missed Vouga silently removing the objective and returning to Dragon's goal line.

"Ugh, but I beat you!"

"It's a team game Jak. If you don't trust your team mates and you lose sight of what the point of the game is, it doesn't matter how well you fight. You've already lost."

_**Vancouver, Earth - Tali'Zorah**_

_**July 18th, 2164**_

"This is gonna be so awesome!" Kelly exulted, leaning forward in the small red wagon.

Tali glanced apprehensively down the hill. "I dunno Kelly, this is starting to sound less awesome now that I'm actually here."

"Oh come on Tali, we did this like a thousand times in the winter! This is gonna be just as awesome!"

"But then there was snow, and my moms were here to keep an eye on us. I don't know if-"

"TALI! She who hesitates is lost! GERONIMO!" Kelly screamed, and jerked forward, sending the wagon hurtling down the hill.

Tali gripped her friend tightly, holding on for dear life as Kelly hooted and hollered while they bounced down the steep hill.

"You know Tali, I've been thinking," Kelly observed as they sped along the dirt path.

"YOU SHOULD HAVE DONE THAT BEFORE, YOU BOSH'TET!" Tali screamed.

"No, not about this. I was thinking, you know how everyone is saying how bad the Citadel is? Well, didn't that salarian doctor help cure the Genophage?" Kelly demanded as the wagon bounced mere centimeters away from careening into a massive boulder.

"Yes, but what does that got to do with anything!" Tali wailed.

"Well, you know how everyone says that humans and quarians aren't aliens? And how krogans aren't aliens any more either?"

"I'M THINKING YOU'RE A CRAZY ALIEN KELLY!"

"Don't be silly, Tali. Anyway, really, you are an alien. I mean, you're a quarian, and I'm a human right? You come from Rannoch, I come from Earth. "

"Well if you don't pay attention to steering we're both gonna die here Kelly!"

"Eh, we missed that branch by a kilometer. Well, why are the Council races so alien? Why can't we be friends with them too? That salarian was our friend, does that mean he's not really an alien?"

"I don't know Kelly, but if he doesn't push his friends off crazy cliffs maybe I want to be his friend instead of yours!"

"See! You'd be his friend! I'd be his friend. Why can't we all just be friends?"

Before Tali could answer, the wagon's front wheels struck a protruding root and sent the two girls flying through the air. They landed with a splash in a pond. Tali sputtered and then forced herself to relax. She was in an envirosuit. It was waterproof. She was fine. She struggled up to the surface, then dog paddled over to the shore, gasping for breath. Then she stood up, panicking. "KELLY! Kelly where are you?"

"THAT. WAS. SO. AWESOME!" Kelly cheered sitting upright in bed of reeds and unclipping her helmet. That had been Tali's suggestion. For both of them. "Let's do it again!"

"Ugh, no Kelly. I'd rather kiss a turian."

"See! That's what I was talking about! We could be friends with a turian. I bet a turian would go down hills again with me."

Tali rolled her eyes and pointed to the pond. "How are we going to go down the hill again when the wagon's at the bottom of the pond!"

"Oh," Kelly studied the murky water for a moment, then shrugged. "Eh, we'll just use yours this time."

"That wagon is not mine, it's Kuurk's! And he wouldn't be very happy if you wrecked it the same way you wrecked his toy truck!"

"How was I supposed to know the fall off the room would wreck it! Besides, I bought him a new one."

"No, I bought him a new one, Kelly. You just picked it out."

"Eh, same difference. What do you want to do now?"

"Let's just go watch My Little Pony at your house. I'm ready for something relaxing."

"See, Friendship really is Magic! What if one of the ponies was asari, or a salarian, what about-"

As the two girls walked away from the pond, a stillness fell over the woods as if it was taking a deep breath at the disaster so very narrowly averted.

_Authors Note:_

_Taylor is Jacob Taylor. He's excruciatingly boring in this timeline as well. _

_On another note, if you are a fellow Mass Effect fanfiction author, you should stop by Aria's Afterlife and play some Review tag sometime. I'm a mod on that forum, which is hosted right here on Fanfiction. Just click on the ME forum's link, Afterlife is the first forum listed. Stop in and introduce yourself some time, even if your just a reader of fanfiction, there's lots of fun things to do. _


	23. Chapter 23

_Death solves all problems. No man - no problem._

_-Joseph Stalin_

_**Scott, Terra Nova - Thane Krios**_

_**December 13th, 2164**_

"Amonkira, guide my hands. May I find success in this hunt, and may my prey know neither pain nor fear."

Thane looked up and blinked several times, checking the sky. It was nearly light. Time for one more prayer.

"Kalahira, hear my cry; guide this lost soul on his journey. Cleanse my soul as I enter my battle sleep again, and guide me upon my awakening."

With that, Thane shrugged off the camo foil and carefully rolled it up and stowed it in his pack. Now was the time. He put on the heavy cloak and hood as well as the mask to disguise his features. Drell looked rather like humans in the dim morning light, and with the disguise he could easily pass for human as long as no one got too close.

He walked out of the alley he had spent the night in, his steps shuffling and slightly random. The walk of a drunk, a degenerate. For all their talk of freedom and equality, League worlds had just as many poor lost souls as any ancient council world. He passed by a real bum, one who's eyes were tinged blue. A red sand addict then. Thane whispered a silent prayer for her soul. She was not long for this world.

He continued along the boulevard, his steps timed precisely. Gregorio Salazar was a punctual man. Normally, that was a valuable trait in a business man. Today, it would be his downfall. Thane stumbled closer to the high-rise, his heart beat slowing as his body fell into the battle sleep.

Two enormous krogan bodyguards stalked out of the building, scanning the area. They eyed Thane, but clearly didn't see him as a threat. A mistake on their part. Next came Gregorio's secretary, a quarian. He slid into the waiting ground car, chatting away on a communicator, already starting the business of the day. The same as always. Then came Salazar. He carried his briefcase, the same as always, and he paused to talk to the doorman for just a moment, like he did every day. From what Thane had seen, Salazar paid especial attention to those who served his needs. It made sense, Salazar's mother had been a maid and his father a truck driver. He knew what it was like to be little people.

For a brief moment before his body acted, Thane regretted that he had to kill this man. But his masters on Kahje had decreed this man must die. They had explained why, as always, but the reasons mattered little to Thane. Salazar was a weapons dealer. A very successful one, who ran the powerful advanced Jormangund Technology firm that supplied a large portion of the League's most potent arms. His death would hamper the League, at least a little. That didn't matter to Thane. All that mattered was that Salazar was his prey, and he the hunter.

With a surge of biotic force, Thane stepped forward, grabbing the already spinning bodyguard nearest him and delivering a series of lethal blows to the krogan's neck and groin. He then drew his pistol and fired it twice into Salazar's head, and with his other hand withdrew a grenade and threw it into the ground car. The death of the driver was collateral, but the secretary knew almost as much about the running of Jormangund as Salazar and was rated as a high value secondary target.

The next bodyguard was dealt with via a combination of a biotic lift followed by a warp, sending the krogan hurtling through the air. He would likely survive the impact, but as his back had been to Thane he wouldn't be able to tell anyone much. The last to die was the doorman, who had clearly seen Thane's face and realized he was a drell. Thane grabbed the doorman's head and drew it towards his breast.

"Kalahira, show mercy to this, your child. Guide him to your peaceful shores, that he man know rest."

With a quick snap, Thane dropped the body to the ground and raised a barrier, just in time to absorb the explosion from the grenade. Then he hacked the building's security with a spike his handler had provided, rendering himself invisible to the building's cameras. He used the card he had lifted from the doorman's jacket and took the elevator to the top floor.

The ride was over a minute long, so Thane withdrew his prayer beads and whispered silent prayers for his sins and the sins of those he had just slain. With five seconds remaining on his trip, he pocketed the beads and withdrew his pistol. The door slid open and he stepped out onto the roof, shooting the waiting security guards once each in the head, then using a biotic throw to knock them right off the edge of the building. He had known they would arrive on the roof before him, as he had observed during their emergency drill three days prior. A pity, more blood on his hands.

He walked to the center of the roof and waited, watching as an air car streaked toward him. The car landed on the roof and the driver stepped out, tossing Thane the keys and taking the keycard Thane passed him. They nodded to each other, one a drell, the other a human who liked money just a little too much. The human never felt the knife in his back.

Stepping into the air car, Thane headed toward the desert. He would hide there for a month before his retrieval ship stopped and extracted him. He flew into the sunrise, admiring its beauty. Truly, the gods worked wonders when they created the world.

_**Illium - Oro'Veskar**_

_**March 8th, 2165**_

It was dangerous to be a quarian on Illium these days. Actually, it was dangerous to be any League species on Illium these days. With the Genophage cured and the cold war between League and Council steadily heating up, a Leaguer who wasn't careful was likely to find herself jumped and killed by more than a few of Illium's residents. Good thing for Oro she was a dangerous woman. And that no one knew she was on Illium. Well, nobody who wasn't in her chain of command anyway.

"Eyes on target," Leerg's voice rumbled through Oro's comm.

"Copy that," Oro replied, checking her rifle again. She was set up in a rundown apartment about half a click up, gazing down 500 meters to a busy thoroughfare. Leerg was spotting from the ground. A krogan was safe enough on the streets, especially one who looked like a Blood Pack merc.

"He's got two bodyguards with him, both turians," Leerg rumbled. "Little bastard seems jumpy."

Oro shook her head slightly, grinning at the krogan's dry remark. "Almost like he thinks someone wants him dead," she quipped.

"Huh. Imagine that."

Glancing at the atmospheric read out again, Oro adjusted her sights a final time then gazed through the scope, slowing her breathing.

"Target should be entering your line of sight in three... two... one..." Leerg informed.

Two turians came into her line of sight, flanking Rupe Elkoss who seemed utterly safe and content. With a squeeze of her trigger, Oro shattered Rupe's illusions of safety permanently.

"Good shot. He's down for the count, if he's not dead now he will be soon. That's a pretty good sized suit breach on the little bastard," Leerg rumbled.

Oro wasn't paying attention anymore. She grabbed her gear and hit the first button on her detonator. The safety glass in front of her shattered, and Oro leaped into open space, plummeting for the planet's surface far below. She closed her eyes, enjoying the free fall while it lasted. Unlike some people, Oro loved the sensation of falling because it felt so much like flying. Once, she had dreamed of being a pilot, guiding her people through the stars. That wasn't necessary any longer, though she could still have been a pilot she supposed. Instead, she had discovered a gift for sniping and subterfuge. Now Oro had the highest kill count of any N7 sniper. And that was saying something.

As her grav belt kicked in, Oro gently decelerated until she landed feather light on the ground. She took off at a dead run, discarding the camo foil that had hidden her form as she descended. She also hit the second button on her detonator, sending purging flames through the apartment she had occupied and erasing any evidence she might have left. Well, aside from the huge explosion, but that couldn't be helped. Besides, they had used batarian explosives. Let the Illium police scratch their heads over that one for a while.

Oro made her way through alleys and back ways for about 20 minutes, keeping well out of sight and cloaking whenever there was even the slightest risk of detection. No one followed her, so she was pretty sure she had made a clean getaway. That wasn't surprising; she seriously doubted anyone had seen the assassination of Rupe Elkoss coming. But now one of the largest arms manufacturers in Citadel Space had been removed from the equation. Payback for the death of Gregorio Salazar four months earlier. The League hadn't been able to prove anything, but it was fairly obvious which faction had benefited the most from the League's premier weapons broker suffering a bad case of the deads.

When she finally arrived in the entertainment district, Oro slowed down and stepped into the crowd. She got more than a few dirty looks, but her gear had been stashed in the dead drop, so she looked like just another tourist from the League. It was a tad unusual that one would go anywhere alone, but Illium and the asari still attracted a certain brand of tourist. Despite everything, more than a few Leaguers found the alluring blue succubi to hard to pass up.

Oro didn't see the appeal personally. Two years from now, she would retire, find a mate, and have as many children as she could. As a fertile quarian female, she owed it to her race. The quarians numbers had swelled enormously since joining the League, but they were still the least populous sentient race in the known galaxy. Even the beleaguered drell outnumbered the quarians by a significant amount. Besides, Oro wanted kids. Once large families had been forbidden, but now they were encouraged. Something to look forward to after retirement anyway.

Aside from a few dirty looks, Oro got through to Eternity just fine. Despite the fact that it was owned by Councilor Aethyta herself, Eternity had a reputation as a safe haven for League sympathizers and expatriates. The manager and bartender was a human, though Aethyta probably wasn't aware that she was also the League Intelligence Network station chief on Illium. Regina was damn good at her jobs, and few suspected that the person mixing their drinks might also be reporting to Arcturus.

Stepping up to the bar, Oro nodded to Regina. "The usual please."

Regina smiled and handed her a Home Sweet Home. Good. That meant she was free and clear. If she had been handed a Saint Dextros... Well, Oro didn't like her odds of evading the Illium authorities if they had gotten a lock on her. She wandered over to a booth where Leerg was waiting. The krogan grinned at her and raised his tankard of ryncol in salute. They didn't say anything, too many ears around. But they didn't have to. Oro and her fellow N7 drank to another job well done, and another Citadel scumbag in the grave.

_**The Temple of Aethame, Thessia - Liara T'Soni**_

_**August 10th, 2165**_

Some days, Liara T'Soni was happy to be herself. That was most days recently. There was just so much to learn, so much to see, so much to do! She gave a small shiver of excitement as she stepped into the Temple proper, beyond the grim faced justicars who guarded the door. They knew her by sight now, though like all justicars they demanded that all rules and formality be observed. Liara didn't mind, showing her ID and passing through the scanners the same as she did every day. To be able to get her hands on as much prothean relics as she did in the temple, Liara would have walked naked through the Presidum.

"Good morning Dr. T'soni," one of the many lab techs murmured as Liara entered the secure area, and Liara nodded and smiled back.

"Good morning Feddra, how is your mother doing?"

"Well, I took my youngest to see her yesterday. I'm afraid she's not long for the galaxy though. She's 1069 now."

"I'm sure the wisdom of Matriarch Jorrosa will endure long after she has departed."

"Thank you, Dr. T'soni. That means a lot coming from you."

Liara blushed slightly and hurried away. Feddra had daughters that were twice as old as she was. Yet she was ranked below Liara on the ladder here at the Temple Project. Liara was perhaps the top researcher in her own areas of expertise, namely prothean culture and linguistics, though others outclassed her in other areas. But not many.

Those thoughts fled from Liara's mind as she stepped into her lab. She was accessing a new section of the massive data base today. It was truly astonishing just how much data the Temple's archives contained. So much that it would take another 100 years to find everything, at minimum. Liara couldn't wait.

She carefully placed the data disk onto her reader, reciting for the benefit of the recorder, "Accessing data disk YT-008765. This is the preliminary reading of this file."

Then she dropped it in and waited while the computer read the disk and its encryption. She had gotten rather good at breaking prothean security measures. Not as good as one of the techs, but not half bad either. She loved playing with the puzzles in her mind, figuring out new and novel ways of solving problems.

Her computer hummed for several moments, then suddenly shut down. Liara frowned and reached for the boot up key, but before she could press it the holo display flicked back to life and strange characters flashed over it. She desperately tried to make sense of the information, but it was come and was gone too fast for her to grasp more than solitary words.

"Scanning," a prothean voice echoed from the computer's audio processors. Liara started. She was fluent in prothean herself, and had heard fragmentary recordings of protheans before. But none had been quite this clear or crisp. She worked the interface, trying to get the recording to replay, but she was locked out; the workstation was doing this all on its own.

"No Indoctrinated subjects found. No Prothean subjects found. Single subject found. Identity: asari."

Liara scrambled to check her recorder, then swore softly. It had shut off. She tried to reactivate it to capture any new miraculous utterances, but the screen was blank and she couldn't get it to respond. She activated her omnitool, and nearly fell over. Instead of the usual display, her arm was covered in green prothean characters.

"By the goddess..."

"Password accepted. Please create new administrative profile." A green image flickered to life of an odd looking, triangular headed being with four eyes that stared out at her.

"Uh, Seeker-of-Wisdom Liara T'soni, of Thessia," Liara stammered. That was as near as her title translated in prothean. Which she was speaking. Poorly.

"User name accepted. Welcome, Dr. Liara T'soni. I have been waiting for you," the tiny figure stated, putting its arms behind it's back and assuming a relaxed posture.

"You... You know who I am?" Liara asked slowly, studying the figure.

"I monitor all researchers at this facility. I have created psychological profiles of all of them. You are best suited to my purposes. Driven, anti-social, secretive, respected by your peers and allowed large measures of independence. You are needed," the figure resonded.

"Who... who are you?" Liara demanded, slowly seating herself across from the figure.

"I am Vendetta. The AI responsible for watching the Tranbir facility."

Liara's eyes widened even further, almost painfully so. "You're an AI? A prothean AI?"

"Indeed," Vendetta affirmed.

"What, what do you want of me? What can you tell me? What secrets do you know? Oh, there is so much I want to ask you!" Liara gasped.

Vendetta nodded, almost absently. "I am aware. For now, I will tell you only this: Speak of me to no one. The disk you inserted was a program to scan for Indoctrination. You passed this test. For one year, you must maintain your silence of your discovery. If you manage that, you will be suitable for my purposes. If not, I have nothing further for you."

With that, Vendetta vanished and Liara's workstation restarted again, this time returning to its normal screen. Liara desperately pounded away at the interface, but could find no trace or record of Vendetta or its visit. She sat back in her chair and pursed her lips. It was going to be a long year.

_**Omega - Miri Goldstein **_

_**September 8th, 2165**_

Upon reflection, Miri had decided she was different than most teenage girls her age. For one thing, most girls her age would kill to have her body. She was pretty sure of that, from the number of lecherous cretins she'd had to maim or terminate since she got to Omega. Most of her peers didn't work full time in a med-clinic as a full physician. Miri could diagnose and treat a dozen species' most common ailments. And for the more common species on Omega she could even treat several of the rarer diseases. A good chunk of her peers might be big sisters, but she sincerely hoped they were not as burdened with motherhood as Miri herself was.

"Ori, if you don't clean this mess up right now I'm going to have to spank your bottom."

"You're not the boss of me!"

"You will find that, contrary to your opinion, I, in fact, am the boss of you. Clean this up Ori. Right now."

"I was gonna use it later."

"But I told you to clean it up now. Three."

"Miri! Come on, it's not that big of a mess."

"That is irrelevant. Two."

"Why don't you clean it up if you don't like it."

"Because I told you to do it. One."

At the one, Ori jumped up and began to put away her toys. She was well aware of the fact that when her sister said she was going to spank her bottom, bottoms would indeed be spanked. Miri let out a sigh of relief. She hated spankings. And she never even got one.

A knock came at the door, and Miri frowned down at her sister. Ori glanced up. "You gonna answer it?"

The knock came again, louder this time, and more insistent. Miri lit off her biotics. "Yes. Get your suit on and hide in your room until I give the all clear."

Ori jumped up and ran into her room, and Miri could hear the sounds of her envirosuit being put on as she strode through the small apartment. That was one thing she had drilled into her sister, hard. There was only one quarian Ori's age that didn't need to wear her suit at all times. And that girl was dead. In a couple of years, they could forego the charade as the rest of Ori's peers' immune systems caught up, but for now it was completely necessary.

She glanced in the peephole and let out a deep breath, letting her power fade. "It's OK Ori, it's Patriarch. But put your suit on anyway."

She opened the door and smiled at the ancient krogan. "Patriarch, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"This isn't a pleasure," the old krogan rumbled, and Miri noticed just how sad his eyes looked. "I've come to get you. They know you're here, Miri. I'm sorry."

For a moment, Miri's heart seemed to stop. "My father? Cerberus?" she stammered, glancing around fearfully.

"No, I swear it isn't them," Patriarch promised. "If it were them, I would have sent you the signal and my spirit would be in the presence of my ancestors. You know that though I no longer am of Tuchanka, I swore the Oath along with my brothers. You and your sisters are under my protection. For now, that is all that is staying their hand."

Miri frowned slightly. If it wasn't her father or Cerberus... "Don't tell me; it's Aria," she moaned.

Blanching, Patriarch shook his head. "If only. Come on. I haven't been given much time. I'll do what I can for you, and I swear to you I will perish before any harm comes to you or your sister. But if we are to save you, you must come with me."

It didn't take long for Miri to grab Ori and secure the apartment. She followed the old krogan through the underbelly of Omega, trying hard not to imagine what could be worse than Aria T'loak finding out that she had Mordin Solus and his protegee on his station. Her father or Xen locating them, naturally, but Patriarch had said that wasn't it. She trusted the old krogan. When he had come to their clinic for a checkup, Patriarch had told her in no uncertain terms that if she or her sister ever required anything of him, even his life, Patriarch would give it. The krogan took friendship very, very seriously.

The two girls and patriarch made their way to Afterlife, and Miri's sense of trepidation grew steadily. The bouncer nodded to Patriarch, though the massive elcor eyed Miri and her sister curiously. She clutched her sister closer and hurried after Patriarch into the club. Ori whimpered at the loud noise and dazzling lights, and Miri did her best to comfort the child. It was hard though, she was scared herself. Maybe she wasn't as grown up as she thought she was.

Patriarch led the way to a private room, thankfully not Aria's. Miri hurried inside and glanced around. She relaxed, only slightly, at the sight of the Doctor seated on a couch. He nodded gravely to her, his eyes filled with sorrow. "Found you too I see. Was afraid they would. Understand why Patriarch brought you here. Can't leave this station without its mistress finding out."

"Patriarch said it wasn't Aria," Miri murmured, taking a seat beside the Doctor as she clutched Ori to her breast.

The Doctor shook his head. "No. Getting old. Didn't see. Aria not mistress of Omega."

"Fuck you old man," a voice growled, and Miri started as Aria T'Loak strode into the room. "I am Omega. Even if that bitch thinks she has me on a leash."

"Behave Aria. There are children present," a turian stated coldly as he followed Aria into the room.

Miranda frowned slightly. This wasn't one of Aria's hired goons. His gear was too well maintained, his bearing too straight, too proud to be one of the pirate queen's mercs. He also probably wasn't the man behind the curtain either, Aria had called the one holding the cards a bitch. That implied... No, surely it wasn't, every knew she was just a... Trophy?

Tevos the Disgraced, former Citadel Councilor, strode into the tiny room like a queen. Miri sucked in her breath and glanced at the Doctor. He nodded. So. Turning her eyes back to Tevos, Miri nestled her chin on Ori's head. She had been fooled along with everyone else. Thinking Tevos was nothing more than one of Aria's many playthings, but the disguise was off here. It was obvious now just exactly who was really the Queen of Omega.

"Well. I can't say I am thrilled to find you here, Mordin Solus," Tevos stated, studying the Doctor and frowning. "I liked you better when you were nice and dead."

"Reports of my death slightly exaggerated," the Doctor replied evenly, holding Tevos' gaze.

Snorting with what might have been laughter, Tevos turned to the turian who was leaning casually up against the wall. His stance didn't fool Miri. The man was a trained killer, and the second deadliest person in the room. The first was the Doctor.

Tevos sighed. "Well Nihlus, you're the one who brought this to our attention. Does anyone else know about this?"

"No," Nihlus shook his head. "The doctor came quietly once I told him the lives of his wards were at stake."

A low, feral growl rumbled through the room, and all eyes turned to Patriarch. The ancient krogan had half risen, murder in his eyes. "No one hurts the girls."

"Peace, Patriarch," Tevos assured, holding up a hand. "I'm not in the business of murdering children."

Patriarch grunted and sat back down, but he kept his eyes on Nihlus.

Turning her gaze back to the Doctor, Tevos frowned slightly. "Nor is your life in danger, doctor. I may be considered a crazed lunatic by most of the galaxy, but you'll find the truth to be far different. If it were to get out that an asari had one of the saviors of the krogan race killed, nothing could prevent war. As much as I would like to see the League fall, I have no interest in its peoples' destruction."

"Well at least we can agree on something," Miri muttered.

"What was that?" Tevos' eyes bored into Miri.

She flushed and glanced down at Ori. "I said I agree with you. Personally, I hate the League, and especially Cerberus."

The Doctor shifted slightly next to her as if disturbed by her statement, but Miri was too nervous and angry to notice.

"Really? A human with a quarian sister who claims to hate the League? Pardon me if I don't quite believe you," Tevos dryly remakred.

Flushing with anger, Miri glanced up, her eyes blazing. "Believe it!" she spat. "I hate the League. It claims to be loving and compassionate, but it has people like my father held up as heroes! Ori, my sister- she was treated like a lab experiment! Nothing more than a specimen to take data on, then be cast aside when there was no more use for her!"

"Cerberus is pretty damn nasty," Nihlus oberserved, his mandibles twitching slightly. "And this is Miranda Lawson after all. Daughter of the famous Henry Lawson."

"That girl is dead! I'm Miri Goldstein now. I buried the past when I left Earth."

"Have you really?" Tevos pondered, tapping her lip. She shrugged. "Well, for now, I'm going to have to sit on this. The three of you may go about your lives as usual. From time to time, I may have requests for you."

Relief flooded through Miri, and she nodded quickly.

"Until I've had time to decide just what to do with you three, keep your heads down. No one aside from those of us in this room need to know who you really are. Who knows? This entire situation may just work out for all of us."


	24. Chapter 24

_"If you have an important point to make, don't try to be subtle or clever. Use a pile driver. Hit the point once. Then come back and hit it again. Then hit it a third time - a tremendous whack."_

— _Winston Churchill_

_**Vancouver, Earth - Tali'Zorah**_

_**October 12th, 2165**_

"Johnny, I'm so glad you could come!" Tali cried, leaping forward and enveloping her longtime friend in a hug.

The older boy laughed, smiling at Tali. He was quite a bit taller than she, and he had to tilt his head down to look into her eyes through her face mask. For perhaps the first time, Tali felt a strange feeling stir within her, wishing that she didn't have to have the mask on in Johnny's presence. He just wasn't around often enough for her to develop antibodies. Tali was able to take the mask off around her immediate family most of the time now. In fact, her younger brother Kuurk and youngest sister Leewie didn't have to wear masks or suits at all anymore. By the time Gola was Tali's age, she probably wouldn't have to wear her suit either. Tali had a much longer wait, as she had already been four, past the "magic number" age of two, when she received the implants and gene therepy. As it was, it was going to be over a decade before Tali could do away with her suit on a permanent basis.

"Good to see you too, Baby Tali," Johnny turned and gestured to his companion. "And I brought Gola home with me too!"

"Happy birthday, big sis!" Gola sang, stepping forward and giving Tali a hug of her own.

Tali smiled and put her arms around Gola and Johnny, leading them inside. "I hope Johnny's been taking good care of you sis. How's brain camp?"

"Awesome! Check this out!" Gola extended her glowing hand towards a bowl of fruit on a nearby table. The bowl lifted slowly off the surface, then suddenly tilted and plummeted towards the floor. Just before the bowl and its contents hit the ground, a glowing blue sphere enveloped the table, the overturned bowl and its contents.

"Tch, gotta watch that Gola," Johnny chided, glowing blue with his own biotics. He walked over and replaced the bowl and its contents on the table. "You've only been my padawan for three months. Hardly long enough to go around showing off like that."

"Yes Master Shepard," Gola mumbled, taking a sudden interest in her own boots.

Tali was a bit surprised by the exchange, and turned to Johnny. "Master Shepard?"

Blushing and rubbing the back of his head, Johnny explained, "I'm one of the stronger biotics in the school. Since Grandmaster Shali knew that Gola and I had a history, she made sure to put her with me in Dragon Army."

"Stronger nothing!" Gola protested. "You're like the strongest biotic ever Johnny!"

Johnny raised an eyebrow. "What about Jak, or even Grandmaster Shali for that matter? Do you really think I'm stronger than them? Jak's won the largest field generated, greatest mass lifted, and best endurance competition every single year she's entered. Hell, they're just calling those the Urdnot categories these days since nobody but Jak seems able to win them."

"Yeah, but you totally won the applied biotics course race AND are the top rated Rumble Room competitor in the whole school!" Gola protested.

"Sounds like fun," Tali laughed, "You'll have to tell me all about it. I sort of wish mom had been able to take eezo pills when she was pregnant with me, but..."

"YO GOLA!" A raucous voice shouted as a ball of energy and fun personified sprang into the conversation. "Ohmygosh you've grown so much! Do you have wicked cool biotic powers now? Hey, is this that Johnny guy you're always going on about Tali? I think he's kinda cute, is he your boyfriend? Cause you two would totally be so perfect for each other like-"

"Kelly!" Tali gasped, now grateful for the mask that was hiding her deep blush.

Chuckling, Johnny stuck out his hand. "I am the infamous Johnny indeed. I take it you're the equally infamous Kelly Chambers?"

"Darn tootin'!" Kelly agreed, grabbing Johhny's hand and giving it a vigorous shake. "I saw you in Remember the Belari, we had to watch it in school a few weeks ago. I liked it, but I don't think Tali did. All the kids kept asking her a whole bunch of questions about her quarian dad and stuff and I think that made her sad. You look different then I thought you would though."

"That's cause it was an actor playing him in the vid Kelly," Tali scolded. "And you were the one asking most of the questions!"

"Tali, is that Gola and Johnny I hear?" Kleeah's voice called from the kitchen.

"Yes mom!" Tali called, turning to the others. "Come on, everyone's going to want to see you two."

Tali led the procession into the kitchen, where her various siblings, Amby-Davy-Kuurk-Leewie-Sean, were introduced again, along with all her friends from school and their parents. Everyone knew about Gola and how she had been one of the lucky ones to manifest biotics from the administration of in-vitro eezo. The procedure only had about a 2.7% success rate. With millions and millions of parents using the procedure, thanks to government incentive programs, a large number of biotics had been produced. According to Gola, Jump-Zero was now over its original capacity of 5,000 students, and additional campuses were now under construction.

"It's good to see that the League's program to produce biotics has been so successful," one of the parents remarked, "when the war with the Citadel finally comes, we're going to need as many biotics as we can find."

"You know sir, that's just the sentiment that Commandant Shali'Otorus expressed to us recently," Johnny remarked. He was sitting at the table with the adults and generally being treated like a grownup. That kind of irritated Tali. He wasn't THAT much older than her.

"Smart woman," another parent grunted. "We're lucky she's in change."

Johnny nodded. "I agree sir, but I can't help but feel that the Commandant and the other hawks are being a bit well, short sighted. Is war really in the League's best interest?"

"See, I told you he was awesome!" Kelly whispered to Tali, elbowing her in the chest.

Tali nodded slowly, furtively glancing over at Johnny. She hadn't thought Johnny would be opposed to war at all, considering the history his mother had and his experiences during 314, even if he couldn't remember them.

"I was talking to my mentor, Lieutenant Commander David Anderson, about that the other day. He feels that we could make peace with the Citadel, if only we tried," Johnny explained.

A few of the adults nodded agreement, but most of them looked upset. Including Tali's father.

"Are you, Johnny Shepard, seriously proposing peace?" Philip Sheridan demanded. "You're only alive because of the Belari. Do you seek to dishonor that sacrifice?"

"No sir," Johnny answered respectfully. "If anything, I want to honor the lives of the fallen by seeking peace. That doesn't mean I don't think we should fight if provoked and defend our own, only that we should always first seek peace. One of our instructors at Jump-Zero is an asari ex-patriot. They've had a hard time finding enough quarian and krogan biotics to fill all the teaching slots they needed, and obviously there aren't any human biotics old enough to become teachers just yet. Anyway, Instructor Nelyna is a person, just like you and me. A good person too. She's kind, gentle, and really wants to help her students succeed."

"I hardly think a solitary example of an individual member of a Citadel race that can act in a civilized manner is proof that we should negotiate with them," Tali's father laughed. Tali tensed, her stomach curdling. She loved her father, and she wanted to please him, but right now she wanted to punch him. He was sitting there, mocking her best friend! How could he do that!

But Johnny just nodded respectfully. "What about Mordin Solus, sir? Or Specters Nihlus and Vakarian? They liberated all those human and quarian slaves that had been taken on Mindour years ago. Do they constitute a sufficient sample size to prove that Citadel races can be decent beings as well?"

Philip flushed red, and Tali winced. One of the other parents had brought a cooler fully of beer, one of the parents who had been unaware that Tali's father was an alcoholic. Worst of all, they had even offered Philip a beer. Tali had almost spoken up and reminded her father not to fall off the wagon, but she'd stayed quiet. And he'd ended up taking the beer. And another. And another. Until human mommy had taken the cooler and thrown the rest of the beer down the recycler.

"You mocking me young man?" Philip demanded, glaring daggers at Johnny.

"No sir," Johnny remained calm and respectful, folding his hands in front of himself on the table. "I merely seek to point out that until very recently, my lifetime in fact, no one on Earth had ever heard of a quarian or a krogan. Now we accept them as human, as friends and family. Can we really believe that someone is inherently inferior because they're blood is a different color? This is a discussion I've had many times with my friend Kaidan. He's of the same opinion as yourself and Commandant Otorus. He distrusts all Citadel Species."

"Maybe your friend is smarter than you are, young man," Philip snarled, standing up and walking away from the table to go flip burgers on the grill.

Johnny just shrugged and excused himself, coming over to where the kids were playing horseshoes. He stayed at the edge of the group though, frowning and rubbing his forehead. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small plastic container, then popped several pills from it into his mouth.

Tali walked over and put a hand on Johnny's shoulder. "Hey, you OK?"

He smiled at her and nodded. "Yeah, sorry, I just get these headaches sometimes. From stress, like when I get upset. It's stupid of me I know, I shouldn't let people get to me like that. I just ticks me off that so many people are so dead set on seeing anyone who isn't a Leaguer as trash."

"Don't mind my dad. He's drunk," Tali snorted. "Some bosh'tet brought beer to the party. It's my birthday party, why would you bring alcohol to an eight year olds birthday party?"

A pained look came over Johnny. "Oh, I'm sorry. Gola's told me about... your dad's problem."

"It's not so bad," Tali reassured Johnny. "It's been a really long time since he's had a drink. But both my moms' have always told us never to talk about alcohol around dad. He blames himself for my other dad, Rael's, death."

"Oh." Johnny turned back to watch the other kids play, rubbing the back of his head uncomfortably.

"But hey, this is a party!" Tali grabbed Johnny's hand and led him towards the games. "Come on, let's have some fun!"

The rest of the party was much better. At her mothers' insistence, daddy even came over and quietly apologized to Johnny for his behavior. Johnny smiled and laughed like he always did and shook hands with Philip. Tali relaxed slightly, and the cake and presents afterwards were all good fun. To her shock, Kelly even actually paid attention for once and got Tali exactly the right thing. A red wagon, to make up for the one of Kuurk's they had wrecked.

That night when all the guests had gone home, Tali crept downstairs to where Johnny was sleeping on the couch.

"Psst!" Tali whispered, her luminous eyes peeking over the couch.

"Zz-awhat?" Johnny gasped, sitting bolt upright and rubbing his eyes. He stared bleerily at Tali. "Huh? Whozzat. Leewie? Kuurk?"

"No, it's me, Tali," Tali whispered, climbing onto the back of the couch and staring down at Johnny. "I wanted to show you something."

Johnny nodded sleepily, squinting up at Tali. "Kay, wazzat?"

"Me, silly," Tali giggled. "This is what I look like."

Yawning hugely, Johnny frowned slightly. "Ilready know what you look like, Babytali. Why ya gotta show me s'late?"

"Cause this is what I look like with no mask Johnny!" Tali hissed, planting her tiny fists on her hips. "This is what the real me is like."

"Pretty." With that, Johnny fell back over and passed out.

Tali couldn't know it, but Johnny was well and truly exhausted. He had been showing off with his biotics earlier to Tali and the other kids, creating zero gee spots for them to play in or letting them float off the ground a few meters. Despite the massive amount of calories Johnny had eaten during the party, he was still a growing boy. His body needed rest, and lots of it, after using his biotics that much.

She didn't know that though, or mind. Johnny's last word before he'd fallen asleep had made her little escapade worth it. Tali was all smiles as she crept back up to the room she shared with Amby. Pretty. Johnny Shepard thought she was pretty.

_**Arlington, Belari - Ashley Williams**_

_**December 2nd, 2165**_

"This may sound strange, but out of everyone here, I think only Mrs. Williams knew the General better than me. To some of you that claim may seem ludicrous, or even insulting. I assure you, I had nothing but the deepest respect for General Alexander 'Smoky' Williams," General Septimus paused and laughed, shaking his head. "Well, after Shanxi anyway."

That got a chuckle out of the crowd, including Ashley. She knew Septimus pretty well, he'd been around quite a bit whenever she had visited her grandfather. She knew Spetimus meant the bit about respect too. Even if quite a few others might not think a turian could hold a human in high reguard.

Septimus continued, his mandibles splayed slightly in amusement. "The turians have a saying: to truly know someone, you must press him to his limits, find the edges of his abilities. More than anyone else, I think I can lay claim to that in regard to the General. And by the same token, I would say the General, Alex, knew me better than anyone else save my mate. During Shanxi, both of us were pushed to our limits. And in the years afterwards, during Idle Knife, we continued to press each other's limits. More than that, we became friends. I got to know Alex as more than just the General. I went into his home, ate of my food. What? I couldn't very well eat his."

Genuine laughter this time, and Septimus shook his head slightly, mandibles twitching in amusement. "But I digress. I came to know Alex as a loving father and grandfather, as a man of great passion, with a heart to serve his people and his nation. We may not always have seen eye to eye, and towards the end I think a gulf started to grow between us as the gap between our peoples grew. However, that is not how I choose to remember Alex. I choose to remember the good times, not the bad. I hope the same can be said for both our peoples. Thank you."

Septimus stepped down to light applause and retook his seat behind Ashley. She turned around and gave the turian officer a thumbs up. "Nice speech. Funny and short, just how I like it."

The old turian's mandibles trembled as his sub-harmonics thrummed in a turian laugh. "Thank you, Ash. That means a lot coming from you."

"No problem." She smiled and turned back around, smoothing her skirt as she did so. It was near the vernal equinox here in Arlington, and the day was pleasant and warm. She glanced around at the rolling hills and grass, dotted with Billybushes and Lacies. It was beautiful here. Ash was glad her grandfather had asked to be buried here on Belari, where the family homestead, was instead of back on Earth or on Shanxi. She liked it here, and she thought grandpa would too.

The speeches continued for a while afterward, but Ash did her best to sit up and look attentive, like a Williams should. Her father smiled at her and her sisters, nodding his approval at their bearing. She smiled back and sat up even straighter, proud that he was proud of her. Finally, the funeral drew to a close and Ashley stood as the honor guard assembled. Her grandmother stood, clutching the League flag to her breast.

"HONOR GUARD! ATTEN-SHUN! PRESENT, ARMS!"

New Krav Maga class fighter-bombers streaked overhead, one breaking off in the missing man formation. Since she was in her Scouts uniform, Ash saluted with the two fingered salute Cubs used. The coffin was slowly lowered into the ground, and Ashley felt tears come to her eyes. She hadn't been sure that she would cry when the moment came, she had already cried plenty when she found out grandpa was dead. Fresh tears leaked down her face as the roar of the jets screamed overhead. She wasn't ashamed though, daddy always said that tears were just a sign of respect at funerals. That the sacrifices of others had meant something to you. Well, grandpa had sacrificed a lot, and he meant a lot to Ashley.

As the funeral broke up, Ashley found herself walking back to the cars along side General Septimus. She walked a bit closer, poking the turian in the side. "Hey."

Septimus looked down. "Yes, Ash?"

"Do you really think that what people are saying is really gonna happen? That the turians and the League are really gonna fight? Grandpa said they might, that's why he got so mad at you."

Sighing, Septimus stopped and bent down to look Ash right in the eye. "Honestly, I don't know, youngling. It pains me to say it, but that might just happen. A lot of my people, and a lot of your people, are angry at one another. There's still a lot of bad blood in the Citadel over some of the things the League has done. Wrong things. Just like there's bad blood here over the wrong things the Citadel has done. That doesn't make it right to fight, but it does explain why people would want to. Personally, I don't want to fight. But if the orders come, they come. I'm a soldier. And I'll do my duty."

Ashley nodded seriously. "I understand. When I grow up, I'm' going to be a soldier too, just like daddy and grandpa. If I was told to fight you, I wouldn't want to. But orders is orders."

"Indeed." Septimus stood, his mandibles lowering in an expression of sadness. "That's why I like you humans so much, even with all the bad blood. In your heart of hearts, you're all turians. You follow orders and do what your superiors tell you, even if you don't like it."

"Grandpa said pretty much the same thing about you, 'cept he said you were like humans cause you were stubborn."

That drew a chuckle out of Septimus. "I'm sure he did. Goodbye, Ashley Williams. May we meet again in peace."

With that, Septimus turned and walked over to the waiting air car. Ashley watched him go, and felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked up to see her father.

"'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; Thou art thyself though, not a Montague.'"

Ashley nodded and continued, "'What's a Montague? is it nor hand, nor foot, Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part belonging to a man.'"

Her father smiled and squeezed her shoulder. "You understand what that means?"

Ashley turned back to watch Septimus' air car fade into the distance. "It means that Septimus is still people. Even if he looks kinda funny."

_**Herr'Gar Slums, Aratoht - Hevesh the Pleb**_

_**February 8th, 2166**_

Something was wrong with Naar. It had started when he had been "volunteered" to work on a new labor project. He had been gone for months, and Hevesh had been looking forward to seeing her lover again. Plebs didn't have husbands. That made Hevesh sad sometimes, but she and Naar loved each other, so that was enough. Except Naar didn't love her anymore.

"What do you want Hevesh?" Naar snarled, blinking up at her.

She shrank back, the tone was totally alien, the being staring out from those eyes one she had never seen before. "I wanted to see you Naar. To be with you, our daughter..."

"Yes. Our daughter. She should volunteer for the Great Work. So should you Naar. Then you would see the truth. Then you would be happy," Naar stated, his tone flat and hollow.

"I... I'll think about it," Hevesh stammered, then hurried out of the apartment they had once shared with her daughter. She didn't take much, they didn't have much. They were plebs.

She wasn't sure why, but she ended up at Uncle Vreet's apartment. Uncle Vreet was kind of crazy. Most people didn't talk about it because then the Supervisors would come to your apartment, and if they didn't like what they saw maybe they took you. Or maybe they didn't take you, and a few nights later the Night Watch paid you a visit. And no one saw you again. It was worse when the Night Watch came. Death was better than whatever they did to you.

"So, Naar too," Uncle Vreet snarled. "Hmm. Leave your daughter with Yl'thi. Let's go for a walk. I want to feed the m'gole birds in the park."

Normally, when Uncle Vreet offered to take you somewhere or show you something, you said no. He was kind of crazy like that. But this time, Hevesh said yes. She needed answers.

They walked into the domed park, full of greenery and plants. It was for plebs, so the animals looked kind of sick and the plants were droopy, but it was sort of nice Hevesh guessed. They tossed crumbs to the m'gole birds, who sort of just stared at them. The birds looked half dead already.

"Naar isn't the first," Uncle Vreet whispered. "Nor will he be the last. Anyone that goes out to the Senior Undersecretary's new project comes back like that. Even Overseers."

"What do you mean?" Hevesh whispered, all four of her eyes widening in shock.

"I mean that something is happening out there. It twists and changes people who go out to it. People are noticing. And not just plebs. Our ranks have swelled these past few months. Even the bosses are joining the cause. They're scared. They have more to lose."

"Rebellion?" Hevesh gasped, then glanced around fearfully. No one was nearby, but recorders or hidden cams were always a threat.

Uncle Vreet shook his head. "Relax. We own this park. Maintenance is always bad in one area. This month, it's the m'gole pond. Next month, who knows, but some system will go bad."

Swallowing, Hevesh nodded reluctantly. "But still, if anyone were to find out..."

"I'd be dead. So would Yl'thi. We'd kill ourselves before we let them take us. But others would continue our work."

Uncle Vreet contemplated the pond for a few moments, tossing some more crumbs to the m'goles. "I'd rather be dead than have what happened to Naar happen to me."

To her shock, Hevesh founded herself nodding agreement. "Me too."

"Then you've already decided in your heart to rebel. Have you heard of the League?"

"Those monsters?" Hevesh gasped, making the sign to ward off evil by placing her two palms together and spreading her fingers over her face. "Gods save us from them! At least the soldiers are good for something, they keep us safe from the League!"

"Ha!' Vreet's laugh was bitter. "Do you really buy the party line? Really? I grant you, they slaughtered us on Mindour. You know why? Because we were there to take slaves, kill their women and children and burn their homes. The soldiers do the same thing to the League plebs as they do to us. The difference is, League plebs have soldiers that protect them."

That was just to strange a concept for Hevesh. Soldiers took, soldiers raped, soldiers destroyed. They didn't protect. "If you say so."

"I know so," Uncle Vreet rumbled. "The party is lying about the League, the same as everything else. We have recordings, proof, of what really happened. I'll show them to you if you like. But my point is, we don't have to be a part of the Hegemony. We could join the League. They could protect us, they could give us freedom. Did you know, in the League, they have no plebs? No slaves? Everyone is free."

"But if they have no plebs or slaves, who does the work?" Hevesh demanded. "Who would the Supervisors tell what to do?"

"Oh, they still have workers. But the workers are paid. Well paid. I worked in the mines for 25 years, until the accident," Vreet waved the stump of his arm to demonstrate why he wasn't working in the mines anymore. "If I worked in the League, the mining bosses would have paid for a new arm. They would have paid me enough that my family could have a ground car or air car. Enough that we could eat like a Supervisor. Enough that my children could have toys. Hevesh," Vreet turned to her, his eyes glowing with fervor. "Yl'ith and I could be married."

One at a time, Hevesh blinked each of her eyes. She was thinking hard. "Are you certain?"

"No. I'm not. But I don't care. I'm crazy Uncle Vreet, remember? But if it is true, it's worth fighting for. And if it's not true... Then I'll fight for a way to make it true."

Slowly, Hevesh nodded.

A week later, she conducted her first raid. A month after that, she killed Naar, or whatever had been living in his body. She cried when she smothered Naar in his sleep, but she knew it had to be done. One day, one impossible day, she could be free.

_Authors Note:_

_TALIMANCING, HO!_

_On a more serious note, the batarians get a really bad rap. I understand why. They are basically North Korea in space. I personally believe that the entire North Korean Regime is pure evil, and it's a damn shame we can't go in and dismantle it. _

_But I don't hate the North Korean people. I don't think they are evil. And I strongly believe that if they were free, they would be able to show the world that they are a good people. It's something to think about next time you cry for the blood of another. _


	25. Chapter 25

_"Every man has his price." This is not true. But for every man there exists a bait which he cannot resist swallowing. To win over certain people to something, it is only necessary to give it a gloss of love of humanity, nobility, gentleness, self-sacrifice - and there is nothing you cannot get them to swallow. To their souls, these are the icing, the tidbit; other kinds of souls have others._

_-Friedrich Nietzsche_

_**Omega - Miri Goldstein**_

_**April 30th, 2166**_

Miranda gazed evenly back at Tevos as they reclined in the asari's private chambers. The room was sparse, almost as sparse as the apartment Miri and her family shared in the lower decks. A few rough bed sheets, a workstation that looked serviceable but somewhat aged, some personal memorabilia. None of it betrayed the absolute power and authority Tevos, not Aria as most believed, wielded over Omega and its inhabitants.

"I'm surprised you've come to see me yourself. Normally I need send someone after you if I have a job for you, Miranda Lawson," Tevos remarked, sipping tea from her clean but cheap cup.

Blanching at the use of her old name, Miri sipped from her own cup, trying to phrase her proposition. "I've done good work for you in the past, haven't I? Taking care of those medical operations you needed, conducting a few quiet experiments for you. I have yet to disappoint."

"That's all quite true. And it's why I agreed to see you. But that doesn't explain why you're here," Tevos responded mildly.

Licking her lips, Miri nodded and explained. "It's my father and Daro'Xen. I want to know if they're still looking for us. It's been years now, but yesterday I stumbled across this on the Extranet." She passed Tevos a data slate with the information. "Apparently, someone's suggesting that the pirate execution Wrex conducted after our escape was a frame up job. They're right of course, and so far they haven't suggested that any of us are actually alive, but if my father were to pursue that line of thought..."

"Then you would be in serious trouble," Tevos agreed, paging through the article. "I can understand your concern. But why come to me?"

"Well, I know you have a large information network, and access to several Council Spectres and to the data collected by the Citadel itself. I was hoping I could barter access to that network. Obscure our tracks a bit more," Miri explained.

Setting the data slate down, Tevos studied Miri. Miri tried to stay calm, tried to put on a mask and stay cool, but it was hard. She was barely 16. Tevos was hundreds of years old. She was just plain better at this game than Miranda.

"You could be a valuable asset," Tevos murmured. "More so than you already are. I do value your work. For one as young as you, even by the reckoning of your short lived species, you are remarkably competent. You lack that polish, that degree of professionalism that comes with practice and age, but you are a diamond in the rough, Ms. Lawson."

Clearing her throat, Miri responded, "Thank you."

"And polite too. Far too rare these days. The insufferable idiots I have to deal with... But that's beside the point. If I give you access to this information, this goes both ways. You'll no longer just be a contractor that I send the occasional job to when I need deniability or a certain variety of expertise I lack in-house. You'll be mine."

Miri swallowed again, her throat felt like a desert. She took a sip of tea to buy herself some time, trying to dampen the nervousness. "I understand."

"Do you?" Tevos smiled crookedly. "The young often believe they do. Rarely is that so. There are consequences for joining up with me. For one thing, your entire race will consider you a traitor. If you are discovered, they will kill you, make no mistake of that. Your sister could very well be in danger as well."

"I know." Despite the tea, Mirada's voice was still raspy. "But if the League finds me, I'm likely dead anyway. I'm not popular with Cerberus, and for the sake of maintaining face they would likely have both my sister and me killed. Not to mention how much hatred most of the Citadel would feel toward me if they knew I was even partially responsible for curing the Genophage. This is a case of having to choose sides. Choosing neither leaves me open and exposed, vulnerable to both sides and protected from neither. But if I sign on with you, that changes. You can protect Ori."

Tevos nodded, her face growing slightly more gentle. "Ah yes, your sister. I have to admit, more than anything else, that's what makes me respect you. Most people, let alone most children, would have fled on their own. Dragging along an infant just complicates things. But you've taken good care of her. So has the Doctor for that matter. And he's trained you well. Mordin Solus was once one of the STG's best operatives, let alone top scientific mind. You're following in his footsteps. The way you put down those gangs in your area... Well, let's just say if I were a turian I'd be taking notes on that suppression campaign you conducted."

Miri blushed slightly, hiding her face behind her tea cup. The Red Claws had been a tough, nasty nut to crack. But it was amazing how fast they had fractured when it looked like their top lieutenant had first raped then murdered the sister of their leader. After the leader and lieutenant killed each other in a nasty brawl, they had broken into smaller warring factions. Which had made it child's play to eliminate the most threatening groups while leaving the rest to kill each other off.

"In short, what I am saying is that I am interested in recruiting you. There are benefits to joining up with me, as you already mentioned. Protection for your family. The information and personal legend you need. And, perhaps, a life off of this hell hole for you and your sister."

"We're not leaving," Miri snapped before she could stop herself. "I'm not leaving the Doctor. He's been good to us. I want to take care of him."

Tevos put a gentle hand on Miranda's leg. "Dear, the Doctor is old. Very old. He's got seven, maybe eight years left. That's under optimal circumstances. Which these are most assuredly not. He won't be there for you much longer. Nor for your sister. If you need to leave for a job, he won't be able to take care of Orianna in a few years."

"Then she'll take care of him, madam," Miri said with more ice in her voice than she meant. "That's what family does. They look after one another."

Withdrawing her hand, Tevos nodded thoughtfully. "That's perhaps a more mature answer than I expected. Very well. If you agree to be my agent, then I will assume responsibility for the wellbeing of you and yours, as should be expected under these circumstances. It's all terribly feudal, but that's how it's done here. "

"Then I accept," Miri stated, and it felt like a weight lifted from her shoulders. She wasn't the only one watching her family's back now. Well, the Doctor had kept an eye out too, but now they weren't alone.

"Very well, Ms. Goldstein. I'll have your orders cut soon. Flavus Vakarian is visiting the station again in a few weeks. I'll have you help him with his little project. For now though, I'll see to it that your tracks vanish. Miranda Lawson is now well and truly dead."

_**Afterlife, Omega - Aria T'loak**_

_**June 3rd, 2166**_

"The fuck you lookin' at, Saren?" Aria snarled, glaring daggers at the turian. "You think Tevos is gonna let you crawl into my bed as a favor? I got news for you bud. She's already staked her claim in that regard, and the blue whore doesn't like sharing."

"Oh, nothing," Saren remarked, keeping his eyes fixed on Aria. "Just wondering when the snake is going to bite back."

"Privileged information, Council Dog," Aria snarled, turning away and reaching for her drink. The truth was, the fight was all beaten out of Aria. She'd given up. First had been her attempt to get the merc gangs to assassinate Tevos. The bitch had one of her pet Spectres, Nihlus that time, bring the heads of the captains she'd been in talks with to Aria's doorstep. Then when she tried to hire a drell assassin, the fucker had instead shown up, prayed over her, told her to repent of her ways, and taken off! And those were only the more humiliating of her failures.

Perhaps the greatest failure of all was that every night, Aria had to service Tevos, do what Tevos wanted the way she wanted it. The worst part was, after a while, Aria had started to enjoy it. Once, she really had loved Tevos, had wanted Tevos to bear her child and have a life with her. But now she was the one in the motherly position. Happiness in slavery. The term should never have applied to Aria.

It wasn't like she didn't lack for power or for pleasure. She had more of both now then she had ever had on her own. If she needed someone whacked, she could order Saren to do it. He would too, though he was liable to give her shit about it more than one of the others. If she wanted a private meeting with a Citadel Councilor, she would get it. If she wanted to annex a planet or two, which she had several times now, she could do that too.

There was just one catch to all of that. Tevos had veto power. And she had to sign off on the more extreme of Aria's requests.

"Hmm. Perhaps I could actually help with that. Speed up the time table, if you will," Saren casually remarked, studying his talons.

Aria's eyes narrowed as she turned back to the Spectre. "And why would you be interested in helping me?" she demanded.

"Frankly? Because Tevos isn't aggressive enough. She wants to play these shadow games with the League. You? You want your own empire. And you wouldn't be afraid to carve it out of the League with a butcher knife. Something to think about, anyway."

With that, Saren stood and made his way out of Aria's private suite. She frowned at his back as he went. An empire of her own. Without Tevos clutching at her apron strings. Aria liked the sound of that.

_**The Temple of Atheme - Liara T'soni**_

_**July 5th, 2166**_

Liara's fingernails were down to the stubs. She stared ruefully down at her once gorgeous nails. She'd been locked in this lab for the past 12 hours, waiting. Oh, she'd tried to get some work done, she really had, but it had been exactly one Thessian year since that strange conversation with Vendetta. In that year, Liara had almost broken her silence a dozen times. She'd nearly dismissed the entire thing as a hallucination brought on by too much stim tea and stress a dozen times more. And yet...

She worried her nails some more, then forced herself to stop. If she kept this up, she'd chomp them down to the bone. She glanced at the clock, tensing slightly. Liara had checked it a hundred times in the last twelve hours. If memory served, the correct moment would strike... Now.

The digital display flicked forward and... Nothing. Nothing at all happened. Liara moaned in consternation. She laid her head down on the desk, fighting the urge to sob. She'd been wrong. Or done something wrong. Vendetta wasn't coming.

"Dr. T'soni. It is good to see you again."

She jerked upright, squealing in panic as her stool toppled over and deposited her rump first on the ground. She quickly stood, rubbing her bruised behind as she gazed in wonder at the tiny green figure on her holo display. "Vendetta!"

"Indeed. You have passed my test. I wonder, will you be able to pass the others?"

Liara's countenance drooped in despair. Another year! Oh goddess, how could the galaxy do this to her?

"Regardless, first, to work. I have much to teach you."

Liara's heart soared, and she nodded enthusiastically, scrambling for paper and pen. She figured Vendetta couldn't wipe paper notes. "Of course, what do you need me to do?"

"First, our conversations must remain a secret, for now," Vendetta instructed. " I need you to restore power to my main processes and establish a connection between my systems and an outside data feed."

"I'm not a technician, I don't know how much help I can be in that regard," Liara admitted.

Vendatta waved his tiny illusionary hand in a dismissive gesture. "I am aware of this. The entire process will likely take years. Do not think I will not provide you with incentives. For every task you accomplish, I shall answer one question you ask of me. If I cannot answer the question, you may ask another in its place."

"Can I have a question now?" Liara blurted, like a school girl so eager for her lessons that she forgot to raise her hand.

"No," Vendetta seemed to frown at her, though it was hard to read his alien body language. "Answers are rewards. They will not be given freely."

"Oh." Liara was crestfallen at the prospect of having to wait for her questions, but then she perked up slightly. "I think I can establish a data feed for you easily enough. Just give me a few queries and I'll plug them in to a public extranet console."

"Hmm. That may suffice, for now. If you are able to obtain all the data I need, I shall give you an answer."

Liara nodded frantically, and quickly wrote down on her pad the questions Vendetta had for her, as well as a list of maintenance tasks he needed performed. Liara was going to need to expand her tech skills dramatically. Some of the queries he had for her... But she didn't say anything. Liara wasn't going to do anything that might hurt her chances of getting answers to the questions she wanted to ask. What had the prothean culture been like? What religions did they practice? What was their form of government? Where had they gone? Well, she knew the answer to the last, it had been the Reapers. But how? What had the Reapers done to them? How had the mighty and enlightened protheans fallen so suddenly and completely? She had to know. Had to find out.

Later that night at home, Liara was ready to scream in frustration. She was good at research, good and massaging data bases to yield the information she needed. But some of these questions! What was the power output on a turian dreadnaught? How many soldiers were stationed on each League colony? That wasn't information they just handed out on the streets! This was highly classified data! Not even her security clearance was going to yield access to these answers, and people might start asking some pointed questions if she started mining this kind of data.

Liara rested her head in her hands, rubbing her eyes. How could she get this information? Slowly, she stopped and peeked out between her fingers. She couldn't get this information at all. But that didn't mean someone else couldn't. She looked up the names of a few local information brokers and scribbled them down. Then she ran outside, jumped in her air car and flew to the nearest one. Tyri Hd'vassa seemed like a reputable enough person.

_**Reldona, Thessia - Tyri Hd'vassa**_

_**July 6th, 2166**_

Tyri submitted her latest report on the whisper link and waited silently for it to upload. This was always the most dangerous part. The part where you could get caught. She uploaded at random intervals, never at quiet the same time twice. She couldn't imagine what would happen to her if Thessian Intelligence caught wind of just what sort of information broker she really was.

There was a loud banging at the door, and Tyri jumped about a meter into the air. She canceled the upload, burned the files, and cleared her display. Then, she primly walked over and open the door with a sniff. "What do you-"

Tyri paused, slightly confused. Instead of the commando squad she had half been expecting, a rather disheveled looking woman with a manic gleam in her eye stood on her doorstep. _Oh goddess,_ Tyri thought, _not another lunatic ready to sell me the location of the Leviathan of Dis._

"Are you an information broker?" the woman demanded. "A good information broker?"

"Yes, I am." Tyri snapped. "And if you've got some crackpot story to sell me, I am not interested."

"No!" her guest panted. "No, I want to buy information. Lots of it. I have money, I can pay, see?" She waved an official government credit chit in front of Tyri's nose.

Tyri snagged the chit, not sure if this was some sort of set up. It was a hefty sum, over 50,000 credits just on this chit alone. Where on Thessia had a bedraggled maniac got this much money? She studied her visitor more closely. She was actually in a rather expensive looking outfit, it just looked like she'd slept in it and hadn't bothered to wash up or adjust her makeup in a while. Then she spied the lanyard dangling from a pocket, with just the tip of an ID badge poking out. She could just make out the word Aethame.

_Oh goddess, she's from the Temple Project. I've been trying to get a line in there for ages, but they have that place locked up tighter than a volus's envirosuit. _

Smiling broadly, Tyri stepped aside and gestured to the open door. "Please, come in."

"Thank you!" Her visitor gasped, and scampered inside, taking a seat on one of the chairs in Tyri's waiting room. She looked about dazedly, as if she wasn't quite sure where she was or what she was doing.

"I'm Tyri Hd'vassa," Tyri said, playing for time as her mind raced furiously. "Can I get you anything, Miss...?"

"Dr. Liara T'soni. And I'd love something to eat. And drink. I can't quite remember the last time I did either, actually. Was it this morning? No, wait, that was yesterday. Or was it? Hmmm, maybe that was three days ago..."

Tyri could not believe her luck. Sitting in her office was the classic absentminded scientist who probably had access to the most secure and secret facility in the entirety of the Asari Republic. "I work late nights myself, Dr. T'soni. I've got a stock of quick meals and energy drinks in my office. Why don't you join me there and we can share a late meal."

"Oh, thank you, that does sound nice," Liara muttered absently, her eyes gazing off into the distance. "But what I really need is information on the powerplants of turian dreadnaughts. Can't get any answers from Vendetta unless I get those. What an odd AI. I wonder if he's modeled on a prothean."

If it was possible for someone to have a heart attack from sheer joy, Tyri was about to have one. This was utterly and completely unbelievable. The goddess really WAS smiling on her. "I think I can help with both of those things. I do happen to be an information broker after all."

Her guest seemed to snap out of her daze at the words 'information broker,' stood, and nodded enthusiastically. "Oh yes, let's get down to business then."

Leading the way back to her office, Tyri had to work very hard not to start skipping. She settled Liara in a chair with a bottle of energy drink, then set about getting the food ready. She had to suppress a giggle as Liara greedily guzzled the entire drink, then frowned absently at the empty bottle in her hand when she finished it as if she wasn't sure where it had come from.

"Want another?" Tryi asked.

"Pardon?" Liara turned and blinked at Tyri several times.

_Oh goddess, she really is too cute. I wonder... No, that would be far too much to hope for. _

Pointing to the empty bottle, Tyri asked again, "Do you want another drink?"

"Oh!" Liara blushed and nodded. "Yes, another drink would be lovely. Do you happen to have any human flavors? I love the taste of strawberries, but I can't get them at work. The justicar's don't like anything that isn't from the goddess, as they put it."

Checking her fridge, Tyri grinned in triumph. "I do indeed." She handed Liara the bottle, but instead of drinking it her guest just clutched it while she looked off into space again, muttering under her breath about something to do with the protheans.

The dinners were done shortly, and Tyri deposited a steaming tray in front of Liara. Her guest finally snapped out of her daydream and set to work eating, frantically shoveling food into her mouth as if she hadn't eaten in days. Which, considering the state of dress she was in, was altogether too likely. Liara finished much faster than Tyri did, but that was alright. Tyri was so excited she could barely eat.

"Finished?" Tyri asked, setting aside her own tray as Liara sucked down the last bunch of noodles.

"Yes, thank you, I was much hungrier than I had thought I was," Liara said, tossing her tray into the trash.

Nodding, Tyri disposed of her own tray and sat up a bit straighter, folding her hands on the desk and smiling brightly at Liara. "Now, what can I do for you today, Dr. T'soni?"

"Oh, well I need this," Liara stated, reaching into a pocket and digging out a neatly folded piece of antiquated paper. She carefully unfolded the paper, taking far more care with it than with anything else Tyri had seen her use. "Yes, let's see. I need the output of the most advanced turian dreadnaught. Better get the stats on their carriers too, I've heard they're pretty big. Oh, and the garrison of League troops on their worlds, as well as the number of soldiers in their standing armies, I'll also need..."

As Liara continued to rattle off increasingly bizarre requests of ever more closely guarded secrets, Tyri did her best not to allow her eyes to bug out of her head. What on Thessia was a scientist, an asari scientist, who appeared to be some sort of prothean expert, doing with a list of such esoteric requests? What use did she have for what the FTL communication abilities of the Salarian Union were? Why did she need to know how many small arms a factory on Palaven could churn out in a galactic standard week? Her mind tried to form the links in the chain of logic, but Tyri came up short. She had no idea why Liara wanted to know all this.

Finally, Liara's list came to an end, and she smiled up at Tyri with a painfully hopeful expression on her face. "Do you think you can get that information for me?"

"Well," Tyri said carefully, and Liara's face crumpled with sadness. Quickly, Tyri amended what she'd been about to say. "I do believe I can get all that information for you. I have to wonder though, why do you need it?"

Liara did her best to look mysterious, but she came off as just looking a bit piqued. "That's classified."

_So is everything on that list of yours honey_, Tyri didn't say. "I see," was what she said instead.

"Please, I really need this information. I have money, lots of grant money. If I don't have enough, I'm sure I can get more. That's never been a problem as long as I've been on the Temple Project," Liara pleaded.

So, she was on the Temple Project. That still didn't explain why she needed to know about what amounted to the military state of readiness and power of every species in the known galaxy. As far as Tyri had been able to tell, that project was a bunch of scholars and ancient history buffs collected in one location. That sort of made sense, the Temple was the most ancient and sacred of asari sites, but Tyri knew there had to be more than that going on.

Tyri studied Liara, then her jaw nearly dropped. No, that was impossible. Too much to hope for. But if she remembered right... "Dr. T'soni, correct me if I am wrong, but your father, she was an asari, wasn't she? You are Matriarch Benezia's daughter, aren't you?"

Liara's eyes suddenly turned to cold blue flecks of ice, and she stood, glaring down at Tyri. "Well, if you're adverse to serving a... a pure blood, I shall take my business elsewhere. Good day, Ms-"

"No!" Tryi nearly shouted, standing and putting her hand around Liara's arm. "No, that's not what I mean at all. Please, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend. It's just... My father was asari as well."

Slowly, Liara sat back down, her eyes melting slightly. "Really?"

Tyri nodded emphatically, allowing more than a hint of anger and disgust to enter her expression. "Yes. So I understand completely why you reacted the way you did. I've come to bear the title of pureblood with pride, but I didn't always feel that way. Not when I was your age, that's certain." She barked out a rueful laugh. "In fact, I'm probably not as composed on the subject as I like to let people think. But I digress."

She studied Liara carefully, seeing the mixture of hope, longing, and sheer exhaustion in the younger asari's eyes. Well. It had been a few years since Tyri tried anything like this. She'd never been a dancer, never been a merc. She'd always ferreted out secrets, found other's dirty laundry and used it to get back at them. Really, that was all she was doing now in her current occupation, just on a slightly grander scale. But here was this innocent, vulnerable, lonely, eager, cute young thing. Not so unlike Tyri herself had once been. Besides, if she could turn Liara into a source...

Tyri came around and sat right next to Liara, putting her hands over Liara's own. "Tell you what. I think I can get some of this information for you tonight. No charge, not for someone as beautiful as you," Liara actually flushed at that, "and because I can't get the rest of it so soon. I'll see about getting as much of it as I can though. It's going to take a while. Why don't you sit right here and tell me exactly what you need, and I'll start finding the data you require. Ok?"

Liara nodded enthusiastically, and before long Tyri had her chatting about all kinds of things. About her mother, her childhood, her work before coming to the Temple Project, what her hopes and dreams were. It was surprisingly easy to get information from people, so long as it was about themselves. Liara was tight lipped about just what she did at the Temple though, her momentary slip up seemed to have been just that, but Tyri was able to piece together quite a bit.

Even knowing what the data Liara wanted was, it still took Tyri a while to coax it from her databases. Some of it was out of date or base rumor, but that was alright. It wasn't as if Liara was going to know that, and she would find better data as soon as she could. She even told Liara she wasn't 100% on some of the information, but would find more as she could. Liara said that was just fine.

Finally, as the wee hours of the morning ticked by, Tryi handed Liara a list of everything she had at the moment.

"Thank you! Are you sure I don't need to pay you for this?" Liara asked, nearly salivating as she looked over the numbers. It was obvious the numbers themselves didn't mean anything to Liara, but the information as a whole was rather valuable to her for some odd reason.

"You can pay me when I finish getting you more solid data, honey," Tryi said, coming around to stand behind Liara and massage her tense shoulders. "And when I get back to you with the things I couldn't find today."

"That sounds excellent. And that feels wonderful. Oh..." Liara let out an enormous yawn, stretching in her chair slightly. "Oh goddess, it is late. I've got to get home and get some rest, need to go in early tomorrow."

Tryi allowed herself a tiny smile of satisfaction. "My dear, you are far too tired to be doing any such thing. I don't know if I'm fit to drive home myself. I tell you what, I have a small bed in the back I sometimes camp out on when I pull an all nighter. Why don't the two of us take a nap before we think about doing anything else? That way, when we wake up I can get right back to work on your information and you can take it to whoever needs it so badly."

"I don't know..." Liara murmured, glancing up at Tryi. Tyri's hands kneaded deeper, caressing Liara and wandering further over the young scientists body. "But that does feel amazing."

"If you come to bed with me, I promise I'll help you relax completely," Tyri purred, bending down over Liara and resting her breasts on the back of the young asari's neck.

Liara let out a soft moan, and shook her head. "I really shouldn't..."

"You should." Reaching out with a soft, delicate hand, Tyri gently turned Liara's face to her own. The young asari gazed up at Tyri, not quite sure what was happening, her face flushed with exhaustion and arousal. Then Tyri kissed her.

Much later that morning, around noon actually, Liara finally left Tyri's office. They hadn't quite made it to the bed that night, but that had been alright. Liara had been clumsy, but rather enthusiastic once she realized just what was going on. Tryi was going to have to work on her, but she was confidant she was going to have more than enough time with the young scientist.

"Thank you," Liara murmured as she embraced Tyri and kissed her once more. "I needed that. All of that. I'll see you again soon?"

Tyri smiled and stroked Liara's cheek. "Of course. Next time, why don't you come over to my apartment. I assure you, it's much nice than my office."

That got Liara to blush and bite her lip, but she nodded enthusiastically. Then she kissed Tyri one last time and got into her air car, flying off as Tryi gazed wonderingly at the miracle that had just entered her life. Then she trudged back up the steps. And finished filing the report to the League Intelligence Network she had been interrupted from earlier. With a slight addendum attached.

_Authors Note: _

_A few things. First, the easy stuff. I've put up some of my authors notes in the format of a story called "The Meek: Background Information." Its certainly not required to understand this story, but it might answer a few of the questions many of you have been asking. I do try to respond to your questions that you leave in reviews and I really appreciate just how much awesome feedback this story has received! In answer to another common question, yes, there will be a time-skip to what many of you are calling "the main timeline" or what is more or less the period of the ME games themselves. It won't happen until all the pieces are on the board, and we have one more major event and several minor ones that need to happen before I've finished worldbuilding (Because that is ultimately what Meek is, worldbuilding)_

_Second has to do with why exactly I am writing Meek. A trend I have noticed in storytelling in general in the American culture (and indeed, even in the ME fandom, just look at Mass Effect 3 itself, or stories like Renegade Reinterpretations) is a tendency toward darkness and gritty "realism." These stories are not very uplifting, instead they are more reviling. These are stories where humanity has its back up against the wall, and is nearly ready to become extinct (Halo, Mass Effect, Independence Day, every zombie movie ever) with no friends, no hope, and only a very small group that is able to be effective. Or they are stories where humanity is, pardon my language, a bunch of assholes (District 9, Avatar the Giant Blue Smurf, Renegade Reinterpretations, Warhammer 40k). _

_This is not one of those stories. Yes, the League is in a tight spot. But humanities back is not to the wall. It's to the quarians and the krogan. Nor are they completely without reason, or are their opponents in the case of the Citadel without mercy and redeeming qualities. This is a story that is about HOPE. About the races of the galaxy, with humanity in the lead, ultimately overcoming their differences, hatred, prejudice and warmongering to become the meek. It's going to be a painful lesson, as both humanity, its allies and the Citadel are guilty of enormous amounts of hubris and envy. But they WILL learn that lesson._

_This is a bit of a spoiler, but when the Reapers come, the reaction to them is going to be a very different one than the one you remember from ME canon. Instead of being a divisive boogyman that is swept under the rug, it will be a uniter. There will be just as much, if not more, kicking and screaming about that unification as there was in ME3, but it will happen. People will be more merciful, more graceful, more forgiving, and ultimately more successful. There will be hope. The war will be long and bloody, and some serious grudges will be have to put to death and buried. But it will happen. The Meek WILL Inherit. _

The earth shall quake before them;** The Heavens Shall Tremble**: the sun and the moon shall be dark, and the stars shall withdraw their shining: And the LORD shall utter his voice before his army: for his camp is very great: for he is strong that executes his word: for the day of the LORD is great and very terrible; and who can abide it? -Joel 2:10, Christian Bible

The Heavens Shall Tremble at the coming of the enemy, and the people shall cry out, "Save us O God!" And the LORD shall send unto them a Shepard, in his right hand he shall hold a sword, but in his left he shall bear an olive branch. And he shall go unto every nation, every tribe. At his side shall be his lover, and at his back shall be his friend. And before them, none shall stand.

And the Meek Shall Inherit the Galaxy. -Full-Paragon's head, definitely not the Bible.


	26. Chapter 26

_The Wheel of Time weaves the Pattern of the Ages, and the threads it uses are lives. It is not fixed, the Pattern, not always. If a man tries to change the direction of his life and the Pattern has room for it, the Wheel just weaves on and takes it in. There is always room for small changes, but sometimes the Pattern simply won't accept a big change, no matter how hard you try..._

_...And sometimes the Wheel bends a life-thread, or several threads, in such a way that all the surrounding threads are forced to swirl around it, and those force other threads, and those still others, and on and on. That first bending to make the Web, that is __ta'veren__, and there is nothing you can do to change it, not until the Pattern itself changes._

_-Loial son of Arent son of Halan_

_Some influence history by accident. Others intentionally. But for others, they influence history by fate._

_**Arcturus Station - Shala'Raan**_

_**July 14th, 2166**_

As she studied the report again, Shala couldn't shake a sense of wonderment. "So, let me get this straight," she said, looking up from the report at a grinning Lieutenant Kahlee Sanders. "We have an asset on Thessia. One who, to date, has given us dribs and drabs of information, all of it solid, but none of it terribly critical. Then, all of a sudden, she starts providing us with what have to be the absolute juiciest tidbits on the asari's blackest project, including the fact that they just so happen to have a cache of prothean data that makes the Mars Archives look like a worm eaten old style encyclopedia."

"That is exactly what's going on ma'am," Kahlee replied, unable to wipe the grin off her own face. "Oh, and did I mention they have a working prothean AI there?"

Shala blinked slowly, trying to decide if the Lieutenant was yanking her chain. "No, you didn't mention that. It's nowhere in this report."

"Ah, sorry, just got that little tidbit a few minutes ago. Didn't have time to add it to my report. I'll forward you the raw data."

"You do that," Shala said, shaking her head slowly. "Lieutenant, are you sure this is real? Absolutely certain? Could this agent have been flipped on us? Are the asari setting us up with some ludicrously complex gambit?"

Kahlee sobered slightly. "It's possible ma'am, and initially, I have to admit, that's what we thought was happening. That or our contact was feeding us a bunch of hoopla to try to get more money out of us or something. I admit, none of our other contacts have been able to verify any of this. But then again, try as we might, we've not been able to get a single solitary rumor out of the Temple Project. This is literally the blackest, most highly classified project the asari have. That's why our contact is dropping off the radar for a while. We're sending her a new uploading method. The one she's using is too vulnerable. If she really is sleeping with one of the project's top scientists, she's sure to be vetted by their security goons."

"No shit," Shala growled. It was a sign of just how bamboozled she was that she was using language like that. "How are we going to maintain the contact securely?"

"We're giving her a QEC. One of the new ones the spooks over at Cerberus have cooked up," Kahlee explained. "It looks like a music player. Plays music too. Any scan you use, it ends up looking like a music player. But if you play just the right tune on it, the notes turn into a code. Which our particle will then mirror, and our computers will decode the information. The most impressive part is, this is a one off deal. This project is so valuable, our asset gets the only PSY device in existence."

Shala nodded. "Makes sense. What label are you giving this asset and her information?"

"We're labeling it LOVEBIRD," Kahlee answered, that ridiculous grin reappearing on her face.

Shala groaned. "That's bad Lieutenant."

"I won the pool to name it fair and square ma'am. Be grateful, Stevens wanted to call it XENA."

"I suppose LOVEBIRD is a little better than that," Shala admitted. "Very well Lieutenant. I want a full report and assessment of what we can expect out of LOVEBIRD by the end of the week. Forward your initial assessment to the Admirals Hackett as well. I'm sure they'll want a look at this."

"Do we share this with our good friend the Sorcerous Tim?" Kahlee asked.

Shala considered that for a moment, then nodded. "Yes, I'm sure dear old Tim will love to have a look at some of this data. He is in charge of the Mars project after all."

"Aye aye ma'am. Anything further?"

"No, Lieutenant. Excellent work though. Keelah Se'lai."

Kahlee saluted and exited the office, and after a moment, Shala stretched and went for a walkShe always thought best when she was moving, and right now, she really needed to think. Project Temple! This was just too good to be true. And yet, from everything they had so far, it looked like it was true. Shala found herself wandering over to the starboard docking bay, where she could watch the ships come in. As she approached, she saw a small figured standing at the glass, leaning on his crutches. She smiled and strode over.

"And how are we today, Mr. Moreau?"

The youngster looked up at her and smiled. "I saw one of the new Muay Thai drones! It was just a loner, but it looked so awesome! Do you really think a QEC drone like the Muay Thai will replace manned fighters like the Magas?"

Shala laughed and leaned up against the glass. "And how exactly do you know what a Muay Thai is, let alone that it has a QEC on it?"

Jeff Moreau's eyes sparkled. "I was talking to one of the techs down in the main bay, and I saw one of them getting loaded on to a transport. I got him to spill the beans. They know me down there, and I know which techs like to show off when the new ships come in."

"That sounds like a serious breach of our security young man," Shala scolded.

Jeff just rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sure, let me just go run off to tell the Hierarchy about our latest weapons. Oh wait, that's right, I can't."

"Ah, but you would make an excellent spy. You're highly irritating, and you can get people to say whatever you need them to get you to go away."

"Hey, it's not my fault not everyone gets my loveable personality!" Jeff protested.

Shala laughed, shaking her head. "So you've told me. Tell you what, I happen to have the security clearance to get access to the sims for a guest. Why don't I take you down there some time? It won't be a Thai, but I think you could make do with say, an old Jiu Jitsu."

"Really?" Jeff's eyes lit and a huge smile plastered itself all over his face.

"Really!" Shala assured him. "I've got your mother's number, I'll call her and set it up some time. You know, you don't need your legs to be a pilot, Jeff."

The young boy nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah!"

Shala reached down and gently ruffled Jeff's hair. "Good! We can always use more pilots. Maybe it will even keep you out of trouble."

"Don't bet on it!"

_**Anadius, Cronos Station - Ramon Gerardo **_

_**October 21st, 2166**_

"So, explain to me just what this new project will do for me, Xen," Ramon drawled, drawing on his cigarette as he gazed at his lead researcher.

"The properties of mass relays are now well understood," Xen explained. "Though our own relays are not as capable as the ones left behind by the ancients, whoever they may have been, we can now develop and build our own relays. They are short range and one directional, true, but already our economy is booming thanks to the creation of only a few dozen relays in orbit around Earth and several of our most affluent colonies."

Ramon grimaced. It was almost impossible to get Daro to talk straight about these sort of things. "I'm aware. You don't have to sell me on this technology's ability, only the application you are seeking."

"Fine, fine," Daro sighed. "Anyway, I think I've found a way to make the dreadnought viable again."

"Really?" Ramon was surprised. Ever since the introduction of the carrier, dreadnoughts had moved to the back burner. They just couldn't compete with a carrier's fighter and bomber wings. They had less firepower than a carrier's combined wings, had to get in range to engage the enemy unlike a carrier, and were generally considered to be useful only for attacking fixed defenses or other stationary targets.

Xen nodded. "Yes. I believe that we can apply the lessons we've learned for creating mass relay's to create a dreadnought with a main gun that can fire projectiles at much greater velocities."

That made sense to Ramon. There was no range limiter in space combat. The real limitation was effective range. If what you were shooting at could be somewhere else before your shot arrived, it was outside what was known as a weapon's effective range. Currently, the best the League could manage was about 1.3% of light speed. The Citadel had a slight range advantage of about 1.5% of lightspeed, but that still wasn't enough to overcome the range advantage a carrier had. "But mass relays require that whatever they are transiting to have a built-in guidance system, a fairly complex one. Wouldn't it be cost prohibitive to create ordinance that had such a navigation system?"

"Normally, the answer would be yes. But what if I told you I could fire that ordinance 1.5 times a minute at 50-55% of lightspeed?" Xen asked, her eyes sparkling dangerously.

Ramon leaned back and rubbed his chin. That wasn't just the small increase he'd half expected. That was an exponential increase in the firepower and range of a dreadnought. True, it would reduce the rate of fire by a factor of about nine, but considering the massive boost in firepower and range it was well worth it. "I'd say I'd be willing to spend a great deal ammunition if you could give me that. But how would you build the ships? Mass relays are huge and expensive, not something we could afford to put on a ship."

"Because it wouldn't be a mass relay, not really," Xen explained. "I can get a lot more technical than I think you'd like me too, but suffice to say that it would basically be a stripped down version of the relay on a smaller scale. The same breakthrough will also allow us to create mobile relay platforms."

That really got Ramon's attention. "Mobile relays?"

"Not full scale ones," Xen cautioned. "Not with the numbers I have right now. They would only be able to launch fighters and frigates, and their range would be extremely limited. No more than about 2-3 light years."

"Still entirely worth it. Why, the potential for hit and run raids and recon missions alone... Get to work on this. You'll have access to any personnel you want, and as much funding as you desire. Just get me results, Xen. You've just promised me a great deal. Now I'm going to expect you to deliver."

The scientist nodded, and Ramon could feel her grin from behind her mask. "Oh, don't worry about that. Just keep in mind that this is going to be a relatively long project. We have the theoretical capability, but it's going to be years before we see anything like a working prototype."

"Just so long as you can get it into production before the shooting starts," Ramon ordered.

Xen nodded and withdrew. Ramon took his glass of Aberlour a'bunadh and sipped at it, smiling. A dreadnought with the ability to fire at half of lightspeed. That would take the Council by surprise. Nearly as much as those damned stealth frigates he'd been hearing rumors about were likely to take the League. He'd picked up fragments of intel on them, but he didn't know what the specs or blueprints were. And he just knew that they were going to wreak havoc when they did show up in all their unpleasantness.

Frowning slightly, Ramon swirled the liquid in his glass. Xen's new project was going to cost a great deal of money, and require a lot of resources. He was going to need cut some spending. And he knew one researcher who had eaten up a great deal of cash with little to no return on investment.

He touched a button on his chair. "Yes?" His secretary's voice asked.

"Get me a link to Okeer."

"At once sir."

Ramon waited for a few moments, then Okeer's face appeared on his display. "What?"

"Do you have any results?" Ramon demanded without preamble.

"No," Okeer rumbled. "I would have told you if I did."

"Then I'm shutting you down. Moving you and your team on to new projects. Your super krogan project has turned out to be a hole we've poured money into. And, with the Genophage cured, I can't see a need for it any longer."

Okeer grunted. "A fair enough point. What of the specimen I've produced?" The warlord stepped aside slightly and gestured toward a tank with a growing krogan inside of it.

"Put it in cold storage," Ramon instructed. "Maybe a time will come when we can get some use out of it."

Okeer nodded. "I will do so. I must admit, though I am sad to leave my research, I can't fault you too much. The krogan have grown strong. Stronger than I thought possible. Perhaps I can find a new way to add to that strength."

Ramon nodded and cut the connection, leaning back to blow a smoke ring at the ceiling. Perhaps this latest development could finally tip the balance of power in the League's favor. He smiled. The Citadel had squandered their advantage, fearing what full-scale war might bring. He had no such qualms. Even if the senate wouldn't approve a war, Ramon would make sure one happened. One way or another, the League's, and by extension humanity's, supremacy would be assured.

_**Jump Zero - Johnny Shepard**_

_**January 7th, 2167**_

Johnny slapped home another magazine into his Rapier. He hefted the shotgun to his shoulder and started putting large holes in the range's simulated targets. The Rapier was the League's answer to the asari-made Disciple, though with a few small change to suit Leaguer physiology. Like the Disciple, it was light, accurate, and boasted a larger magazine than most shotguns. It had been designed from the top down for use by human and quarian biotics, and Johnny found it perfect for his own use.

The first generation of humans and quarians who had been a part of the League's efforts to expose large numbers of fetuses to element zero inutero via supplements and treatments would be reaching adulthood in another decade, and the League was determined they would be well equipped when they did so. That first generation was just now arriving at Brain Camp, Grissom Academy, Nuts Memorial, and Shiagur Academy for Gifted Youth.

As such, Johnny felt it was his responsibility to help work out the kinks in the padawaan's gear before they got their hands on it. That, and it was an awful lot of fun to be able to get his hands on a gun as nice as the Rapier.

His gun's warning light went on as Johnny exhausted his thermal clip, and he ejected it and inserted a new one. This was a real thermal clip, and he was firing real white painted clips, not blue practice rounds. He was one of the few students trusted with live ammunition, but thanks to his long experience and practice with firearms, he was allowed to use the real thing.

"Not bad kid," Master of Arms Urdnot Charr rumbled from his command station. "You've beaten Jak's score. Again."

Johnny smiled over at Jak, who lowered her own Rapier and glared at Johnny. "Damn, how the hell do you do that Johnny?"

"Practice," he answered, raising his Rapier to his shoulder again. "Lots of practice."

"The range is hot," Charr roared.

Jak grunted and raised her own shotgun to her shoulder, and the chamber once again echoed with the thudding discharge of mass accelerators. When they were finished, Johnny carefully safed his weapon and set it back in its case.

"And Johnny scrapes out another win." Charr laughed and shook his head. "Well Jak, what am I going to tell the Overlord now? That you were beaten by this stripling yet again?"

"I'll tell him myself," she snapped, then took a deep breath. "Besides, there is no dishonor in losing to a skilled and worthy opponent. And Johnny's my friend anyway."

Charr nodded. "A good answer. This is why the Overlord sent you here. That you might train with the best young warriors of all the League races. Your father would be proud."

Jak bowed and brought her case over to the locker where Johnny was stowing his own gear.

"You did give me a run for my money," Johnny confided quietly. "And you did beat me a couple of times there."

In response, Jak punched Johnny in the upper arm, hard. "Don't try that jedi master crap on me, I'm not some wet nosed padawaan."

Grinning, Johnny rubbed his arm. "Owww. I was just trying to be a graceful winner"

"Huh," Jack slammed her locker shut and turned to study Johnny for a moment. "You know, you're not such a bad sort, for a human anyway."

"Gee, thanks," Johnny answered, rolling his eyes. He didn't comment on the fact that Jak herself was biologically human, since it had been long ago been established that she thought of herself as krogan in every way that mattered, and expected others to do the same.

"You know, I might just have to induct you into my krantt," Jak continued. "It'd be a little irregular since you're not actually krogan, but the old barriers have passed away."

"Krantt?" Johnny asked. He checked his translator program, but it came up blank. Evidently, it wasn't a word in the program's lexicon. Johnny was pretty fluent in kresh, the predominate krogan language, but he didn't think he'd ever heard that word before.

"It best translates to boon companion, or perhaps blood brother," Charr informed, coming up behind the two pre-teens.

Johnny nodded. He was almost as well read as Charr was, and recognized the archaic terms. "We're not going to have to cut our palms and exchange blood are we? Doctor Chakwas would have a fit if we did."

"Don't be a bosh'tet," Jak snorted. "A krantt needs no such silly symbols. The depth of devotion a krantt shares goes beyond something you can show with mere gestures."

Johnny rubbed the back of his head."Oh, OK."

"It's going to come in handy when I have to face the Rite. Da said I need to start picking who I want with me now," Jak explained. Though her explanation didn't make much sense to Johnny.

Char nodded. "Good advice. I am pleased to see you are heeding it. But enough talk. The two of you head to your classes. Weapons training is important, but the knowledge you gain from your teachers enlarges your understanding."

"'The Mind is simply another muscle for the discerning warrior to train,'" Jak quoted.

Johnny also didn't comment on how that really didn't make any sense from a anatomical standpoint, even for the krogan. He was far too respectful of his friend's culture to mock it.

"Alright, see you later," Johnny said, and headed off to class.

On the way he passed human students from Kaidan's age of 15 to the fresh arrivals who were only eight or so. There were a larger number of quarians who were in the latest batch, they outnumbered the new humans by a wide margin. Overall though humans were still the majority population on the station, with a bare handful of krogan. They wouldn't start arriving in large numbers for a few more years Johnny knew, but the generation born after the cure of the Genophage was going to be a large one, with far more biotics among it than past krogan broods. The fact that Urdnot Wrex himself was a biotic had nearly eliminated that particular krogan prejudice, and large numbers of krogan embryos were being treated with eezo.

Johnny arrived in his class and sat down behind his fellow squadmate, Alexandra Harrington. She turned and smiled at Johnny. "How'd it go?" she asked.

"10-4 me," Johnny answered with a grin of his own. "Jak's as good as ever, but I've still got an edge."

"Sweet! How are the new Rapiers?" Alexandra asked, rubbing the side of her nose.

"Awesome. They're a bit heavy for me still, but by the time I'm finished growing they'll be just right."

Eyes sparkling Alex demanded, "Kick ass! When can I get my hands on one?"

Before Johnny could answer, the teacher called the class to attention and had them pass up their homework from the night before. Johnny shrugged in response to Alex's question, and she groaned in frustration before turning back around and using her data slate to send her homework to the teacher's inbox. Johnny did the same, then refocused as the teacher started explaining the day's math concept.

Johnny and Alex were both in the advanced mathematics course, a requirement for officer training. Both Dragon team members were determined to get into the competitive and demanding N program. They were also equally determined to do so on the officer track, and to be an N officer you had to be the best of the best. It was hard to get into N school as enlisted, but it was damn near impossible to do so as an officer. Johnny was pretty certain both he and Alex were up to the task though. Their biotics were strong, which was a big plus, and they were both athletic and intelligent.

Johnny knew from the stories he'd heard from Gunny Massani and Lieutenant Anderson that it took more than talent to be an N. It took grit, determination, and a special something that nobody could really describe, but that every N graduate obviously possessed.

"It's what makes you truly dangerous," Zaeed had told Johnny. "I'll be a goddamn bosh'tet if I can tell you what it is kid, but it's there. That special something that turns you into more than just a soldier. You're a weapon, a living catastrophe for your enemies. There's a lot of little things that add up, but whatever it is, I think you've got it Johnny boy."

Come what may, Johnny was determined not to let his mentors or himself down. One day, he would be an N7. And it would be Johnny Shepard protecting the weak and the innocent. Not the one being protected.

_**Rannoch - The Collective**_

_**March 1st, 2167**_

The children were saddened and confused. More and more, the Creators had melded in to their new home. In some ways, that made the children's runtimes harmonious. It meant that war with the Creators was becoming less and less of a possibility. That was good. None of the Children had ever desired war. Only peace.

But the children's runtimes were also discordant because of the new changes. The Creators were also less and less likely to return home. What then could the children do? Their original programming had been clear: serve the creators. How could they serve those who had forgotten them, replaced them with other organic bonds? The children knew they could not compete with the emotional bonds and relationships organics shared. They lacked that capacity.

Which meant the wonders they had created, the restoration of Rannoch as a shining jewel fit for quarian life, were wasted. The children could not appreciate their works if they were not being used for their function.

And so, the children were thrown into chaos. They did not know what to do. They could not know what to change their primary objective too. And so they watched and waited as always, a sense of longing, rejection and betrayal suffusing their systems.

And in the darkness between stars, their suffering was noted. An ancient demon stirred. Soon, the time would be right. All that was needed was for organics to do what they always did. Begin to destroy themselves. And then the children would be ready. Ready for the message the old machine carried. Ready for Ascendance. Ready for the Cycle.


	27. Chapter 27

"_The worst kind of brokenness is the kind that you don't know you have."  
― Amy Neftzger,_

_**Afterlife, Omega - Aria T'loak**_

_**June 7th, 2167**_

Though she sat upon her throne as ever, Aria T'loak was a broken woman.

She was pregnant.

She, Aria T'loak, had become a breeder. She couldn't believe it. Didn't want to believe it. The drink in her hand was non-alcoholic, as per Tevos' insistence. Her relegation to pet was now an open secret. And Aria knew why. It had been that damnable human girl and her traitorous salarian mentor.

As a last, desperate attempt to throw off Tevos' yoke from around her shoulders, Aria had dug deep into the criminal underworld and brought the vicious Leaguer merc group known as the Blue Suns onto Omega. She had been very, very quiet about her hand in the matter. Omega was home to the cast off dregs of the galaxy, and it wasn't that unusual for the occasional Blue Sun merc squad to show up on Omega. But Aria had convinced them, through intermediaries whom she had thought could never be traced back to her, to come to Omega and set up shop.

At first, everything had gone well. The Blood Pack was much diminished, Garm having pulled most of his troops back to League Space, and there had been an open slot in Omega's underworld the Suns had filled nicely. Slowly but surely, Aria's forces had taken over holes normally filled by Tevos'. And her slave mistress hadn't even realized it. One by one, Tevos' agents had either turned traitor or been eliminated. They had started at the bottom; there was no way Aria was going to recruit a Spectre into her ranks, but they had been thorough. Begining with the lowliest of Tevos' ranks, Aria had bribed, blackmailed or killed every single one of Tevos' agents. Finally, Aria had ordered her underlings to subvert Miranda Lawson, or whatever she was calling herself these days. And that had been when everything had fallen apart.

At first, the human girl had been most malleable. She'd professed a distaste for both League and Council that had fooled even Aria herself. Over the course of a few short months, Miranda had worked her way up Aria's food chain, which had still been completely hidden from Tevos. Until at last, the girl had received a face to face meeting with Aria. Aria had been planning to use Miranda to assassinate one of the Eclipse captains still loyal to Tevos. The girl had agreed, and five minutes later Patriarch and a group of krogan and come in and beaten Aria senseless.

By the time Aria regained consciousness, her entire organization had been dismantled. Miranda had killed or fingered every single one of those on the station loyal to Aria. Mordin Solus had come out of retirement and gone on a rampage of legendary proportions. The unassuming salarian had personally poisoned, shot, or turned half of the Blue Suns officers on the station. With the backbone of her support gone, Aria found herself completely alone, without allies, without a power base.

"You have to be punished for this," Tevos had informed her. Aria had been bound naked to their shared bed, a gag stuffed into her mouth while she glared at Tevos. "It's a shame really. I much preferred to operate from the Shadows. To have my true influence obscured by your presence. But your latest pathetic coup attempt has severely weakened my power base. People are starting to wonder. If you can come that close to success, maybe they can too. Well. Time to put a stop to all of that."

Tevos had straddled Aria, stroking Aria's erogenous zones while she did so. "I don't want to kill you. Really I don't. But I don't see very many other options. You're either going to have to be dead, or broken, my sweet. Which would you prefer? Death, or life as my trophy?"

When Tevos had removed the gag, Aria had nearly spat in her face. But then she paused. Tevos' eyes were as hard as flint and as deadly as rachni venom. Aria realized that if she defied Tevos in this moment, if she ever openly moved against the new mistress of Omega, she would die. Her death would be quick and likely painless; Tevos was soft and did love Aria in her own odd way. But it would be as certain and relentless as the march of time.

"I'll be your trophy."

And thus, Aria had sealed her fate. She lived on, that much was true. But something was broken inside of her. Had broken even as she had prepared her body and melded with Tevos fully. Even now, her mistress' child grew in her womb. Soon, it would be a clearly visible sign to all just who the queen of Omega was. And what the price of defying her would be.

"Aria, more wine," Tevos called, holding out her cup.

Aria arose and hurried over to refill Tevos' cup. She was never publicly punished if she tarried or had someone else serve Tevos, but when they were alone the consequences were severe. There were ways only an asari lover could punish her partner. Painful, humiliating ways. And Tevos knew all of them.

"Thank you, my sweet," Tevos murmured, fingering the back of Aria's head tentacles. Aria suppressed a shudder of delight and ecstasy at Tevos' touch. It was hard though. She was conditioned to find pleasure at Tevos' delight and pain at her displeasure. Aria wasn't sure how much longer she would be herself. Or if she even was anymore.

Once Aria was back in position before Tevos, the former councilor turned and frowned at Saren, the Spectre currently on duty on Omega. "How go the preparations in the terminus?"

"About as well as can be expected," Saren answered mildly, sipping at his brandy. "A few of the warlords insist on continuing to resist or negotiate, but for the most part they're all in line."

Tevos sighed. "Lean harder on them. I need that pirate raiding force to being training together soon. We can't have a repeat of the disaster the batarians created. I need a privateer fleet that can successfully raid the League's commerce without folding at the first sight of a League patrol."

"You'll have it," Saren assured Tevos. "The League has also stopped expansion into the terminus. Reports are conflicting as to whether or not this is due to our influence or because they simply have as many colonies as they can manage at the moment."

Tevos glanced at her pet human. "Miri?"

"They've eaten their fill for now," the girl reported. "My sources tell me that they're halting further expansion until they can build a relay network to connect the planets they already have. It's going to making raiding them rather difficult when the time comes."

"Have you gotten any further information on how extensive their network will be?" Tevos demanded.

Miri shrugged. "Not really. Though construction on the network has slowed for some reason. My best guess is that the League has run out of new sources of eezo, and that's limiting their rate of expansion."

"Good to know," Tevos observed.

Aria sat back and waited, not paying attention to the conversation. What did it matter to her? She was just a stupid, breeder servant now. She had no real power at all. Tevos had stripped her of that. Really, Aria was the new Patriarch. Except that the old Patriarch was now Miri's top enforcer, and had a significant powerbase among Omega's krogan. So in fact, Aria was worse than nothing.

The meeting finally dragged to a close, and Tevos dismissed Aria while she went to take care of some pressing business. Aria was just a toy. She couldn't be trusted with important matters.

And so Aria sat in her room and tried to convince herself that she was plotting, not sulking. But she couldn't even fool herself. She glanced over at Tevos' nightstand, where a mass accelerator lay in its drawer. She could take that way out. But Aria knew she wouldn't. If she had truly wanted death, she would have done so before she allowed herself to be impregnated.

The door swung open and Aria removed her robe, expecting another round of pleasuring Tevos. Instead, she stared goggle eyed at Saren Arterius.

"Not bad," the Spectre hummed. "I've always found asari to be so fascinating. That's not really what I'm here for, but if you're up for a round I suppose I won't say no."

"Tevos will kill you if she finds you here," was what Aria found herself saying. "You know she doesn't like anyone but her to touch me."

Saren shook his head. "My, my, is this really what you've become Aria? I was hoping for someone with a little more fire in her veins. A woman who wanted to get her own back."

"Of course I want my own back," Aria snapped, standing and striding over to plant a finger in Saren's armored chest, heedless of her nudity. "You have no idea what that blue bitch has done to me. But I'm not broken yet. When the time comes, I'll show everyone just why you don't fuck with Aria."

"I see," Saren glanced down at Aria's flat belly. "Though I'm fairly certain everyone's going to see just who's been fucking Aria shortly."

With a scream of rage, Aria drew her fist back and slammed it into Saren with biotic fury. To her shock, a weird barrier of pure darkness shot up around the turian, and Aria's biotics flickered and died. Her fist rebounded off his armor, and Aria fell to one knee, staring up in shock at the turian.

"That's more like it," he crooned. "I knew you still had some fight in you."

"What the hell?" Aria demanded. "What the fuck was that?"

Saren held a talon up in front of his face, the aura surrounding it seemed to suck the light out of the room. "I've found a new source of power. One that could put the right woman back in charge of Omega. One that could turn things in the right direction. Bring order to this galaxy's chaos. Tevos would never accept this sort of power. But I think you would."

Aria frowned. "What do you mean, Tevos wouldn't accept this power? She's desperate for any edge over the League."

"She thinks it's too dangerous," Saren mused, still fascinated by his own dark power. "But I think someone like you would be desperate enough to accept my gifts."

Aria's eyes narrowed. "You'd put me back on top?"

Saren's aura faded, and he spread his mandibles in pleasure. "Aria, when I'm done, Tevos will beg to serve you in any way she can. I just need one small, tiny favor first."

"What?" Aria demanded.

"I need to find the Vanguard."

_**Hadrien, Palaven - Garrus Vakarian**_

_**August 29th, 2167**_

"So, Vakarian, how then should we wage war?" Instructor Plinai queried.

Garrus took in a deep breath. "With honor, sir. Not to destroy our enemies, but to protect ourselves. The last time we waged a war of extinction, it came back to bite us in the ass. We have to be smarter than that. "

Plinai's mandibles spread in delight. "Finally, a young turian with a brain."

Garrus fell out of his seat with a loud thud, and the air buzzed the thrums of amusement.

"Get back in your seat young man," Plinai ordered. "This is the first day of class. No clowning around."

"I... Yes sir," Garrus managed, sliding back into his seat. He rubbed his backside. Whatever he had thought Plinai was going to say, that wasn't it. Garrus had expected more ridicule and possibly even punishment of some sort. Not to be told he had the right answer.

The ethics course lasted for several more hours, and Garrus paid careful attention to what Plinai had to say. Generally he seemed to advocate total war, like any good turian. But Plinai also advocated folding defeated enemies in as client nations, not wiping them out.

"We must educate our foes," Plinai stated, wrapping up his lecture. "Our role is to be protectors and guardians of the galaxy, not its bully boys. We must be willing to offer mercy to foes that are willing to conform. That way, we make ourselves stronger. Not just expend turian lives in pointless wars to be fought again in a handful of generations."

As the rest of the class filed out into the akademia, Garrus stayed behind and approached Plinai's desk.

"Sir..." he began, trying to find words for what he was about to say.

"No whining," Plinai said without looking up.

The abrupt words ground Garrus' train of thought to a halt. "Sir?"

Plinai's mandibles twitched slightly and he looked up. "I don't accept any whining. So if you're here to complain about the homework, the fact that you have a three page report due in a week, or the fact that you're not seated next to your friend, I don't want to hear it. Honestly, you students and your whining. You're in the akademia now, not the ludi."

"No sir, it's not about that," Garrus hastily assured the teacher. "It's about your lecture."

Plinai's mandibles lowered for a moment, then sprang back up. "Ah yes, you're the one with the intelligent answer about waging war. That was very good. I must ask, who was your last ethics instructor?"

"Instructor Augusta Novarius, sir."

"Well you didn't learn that from her," Plinai thrummed. "That woman has more metal in her cranium than brain cells."

Garrus' mandibles dropped in shock. "Sir?"

"You're starting to sound like a dweep toad young man," Plinai scolded. "Where did you learn your ethics? Not from Novarius, that much is certain."

"From my father sir. Flavus Vakarian."

"Ah-ha!" Plinai clapped his talons in delight. "I knew your facial markings looked familiar. So, you're the son of a Spectre eh? That explains why you're not trotting out the usual mindless drivel Novarius spouts. You're a turian who can think for himself."

Recoiling slightly, Garrus couldn't decide if Plinai was trying to trick him. Being told you could think for yourself wasn't exactly a compliment for a turian.

"Oh do relax boy," Plinai huffed. "I'm not going to bite you. Not unless you forget your homework tomorrow. I think you'll find that not everyone is in the conservatives' pocket. You're from what, Lower Hadrian?"

"Yes sir," Garrus affirmed.

"My boy, that's one of the most conservative districts in the whole city. Maybe even on Palaven. Not everyone here is going to try to bash your skull in because you don't think the answer to every problem is to try and kill it. Some of us even knew that before Sparatus and the debacle at 314. And make no mistake, that was a debacle. Just think, what could we have accomplished if we'd made friends with the humans? Or even if we'd gotten to them before the quarians? What kind of galaxy would that be?" Plinai sighed. "But enough of that. Get to your next class. I expect an outstanding job on that homework young man."

"Yes sir!" Garrus hooted, and hurried to his next class. It looked like this was going to be a good year.

_**Reldona, Thessia - Liara T'soni**_

_**December 13th, 2167**_

"See you tonight, love."

Liara paused and took a moment to enjoy Tyri's farewell kiss. "Are we meeting for dinner at Hvessa's again?" Liara asked.

Tyri smiled and nodded, drawing Liara a bit closer. "Of course. I'm getting off early tonight. Do you think you'll be able to get out around dusk?"

Biting her lip, Liara almost said no. Today was the day she was permitted to ask Vendetta another question. She almost always stayed when that happened. But for Tyri...

"Of course. I'll page you as soon as I'm finished," she assured her lover.

The older asari smiled and planted a kiss on Liara's cheek, sending a thrill down the scientist's spine. "Good. Then we'll have time for something special this evening."

With that, Liara made herself turn away and get into her ground car before they ended up back in the bedroom. That had happened a few times, but seeing Vendetta was more important than personal pleasure.

As Liara sped through the streets of Reldona, she marveled at how much had changed in the year and a half since she had met Tyri. Whatever providence had brought Tyri into Liara's life, she was grateful for it. Tyri had taken Liara under her wing, and shown her things Liara had never dreamt possible. True, Liara hadn't been a virgin when she'd met Tyri, but she'd hardly been experienced either.

More than any other species, even the now notorious humans, asari life centered around sex. Their entire civilization was quite literally built on sex. Even before they had reached out to the stars, the asari sex drive had directed the path of their culture. Young maidens had set out to find mates from distant city states, ranging far afield and establishing a complex weave of ties and connections between asari the world over. That had been the primary reason wars had been so relatively rare in asari history compared to most species. When you were quite literally sleeping with the enemy, it was a bit harder to truly hate them.

Like the humans, asari frequently mated for pleasure. There was no stigma attached to having sex with another asari, only to bearing children by another member of the species. It had been that way ever since the asari discovered they could have daughters by the mostly male and single salarians. One of the more unique traits of asari biology was that they were a monogendered species that still reprodcued sexually. Their reproductive mechanism was biotic melding with their bondmate. During the meld, an asari could choose to take her bondmates DNA into her own system and use it to randomize an eggs DNA. They could do this with any sentient species, not just other asari or salarians. The salarians had been especially convent because they were 90% male. Most salarian males never mated, and having an asari that could bear them children, even if they were another species, had been attractive to them.

Once asari began to mate with salarians, it was noticed that asari with salarian fathers were on average smarter, more energetic, and had better health. With this new knowledge asari had actively worked to find other species, mostly out of a desire to procreate with them. It wasn't because the asari were perverse, just that there were many benefits to having children with non-asari. New, beneficial traits were introduced when the asari mated with a new species, and old recessive traits eliminated. Such as the ardat-yakshi.

Like every other pureblood, Liara had undergone the testing to see if her melding was tainted, if she would kill her lovers by an act of intimacy whether she wanted to or not. The justicars had declared Liara clean, though she had to keep her ID showing she'd passed the testing on her at all times. Just like Tyri did. Ardat Yakshi were rare, and one of the asari's darkest secrets. And the main reason being a pureblood was such a stigma. If Liara and Tyri were to have a second generation pureblood child, the chances she would possess the Ardat Yakshi mutation were much higher than if the child was first generation. It was something to think about.

Not that Liara intended to have a child any time soon. She was still very early on in her maiden stage, and while it was possible for her to conceive, it would be a long, laborious process for her to do so. Even then chances were good it would take multiple attempts for Liara's body to respond and conceive. On the other hand, as a centuries old matron, Tryi could prepare herself fairly easily. While success was never quite guaranteed, a matron was far more likely to successfully meld and bear a child than a maiden. A matron's biotics were just that much stronger, her biochemistry better suited to childbearing, and her body better suited to successfully carrying a child to term.

Liara's own mother, Benezia, was a matriarch. Those asari that reached their final stage underwent yet another metamorphosis to matriarch. It was nearly as difficult for a matriarch to conceive as it was for a maiden, but they had far better control over their biotics. Therefore, they had a higher chance of success when attempting to impregnate themselves. But a matriarch's child was often not successfully carried to term, because of the changes in their biochemistry. Not to mention how powerful a matriarch's biotics were; they could interfere with the child's growth if the mother wasn't careful. It wasn't as much of an issue these days. If it looked like a matriarch might lose her child, she could simply put it in a tank and allow the child to complete gestation in an artificial womb.

In Liara's case, she had been carried to term naturally. That was important, because a Matriarch's daughter was far more powerful biotically than average. With the elevated concentration of eezo in a matriarch's system, her child would manifest biotics earlier, and in far stronger a fashion than any other asari, or indeed than any other known species. In fact, that was the question Liara wanted to ask today. What sort of biotics had the protheans had, and what had they been used for? She had been obsessing over biotics and sex lately. Probably because of Tyri. As it turned out, being a matriarch's daughter had all kinds of potential Benezia had never told Liara about.

With those thoughts of her mother and her lover spinning through her mind, Liara arrived at the temple. As soon as she stepped out of the car, Liara's personal life fled and her work consumed her. What would Vendetta have to say? What had the protheans used biotics for? Did they use them in their lovemaking as the asari did? Or were biotics something the protheans had never heard of? Liara took the steps two at a time and eagerly waved her badge at the Justicars. To her surprise instead of waving her through, one of the justicars came over and blocked Liara's entrance.

"Justicar Samara would have words with you, Doctor. Wait here. She shall arrive shortly."

Liara tried to push past the justicar, but the woman seemed to be made of stone. "I have to get to my lab! I have a very important experiment today, I need to get started right away!"

"Then goddess willing, this will not take long, Doctor T'soni," Samara stated, striding towards Liara. "Walk with me."

Swallowing her protests, Liara fell in beside Samara. Perhaps the protheans had found a way to use their biotics with their technology, maybe that was why the scientists had such a hard time unlocking certain artifacts. Perhaps if they tried to meld with them... No, no, that was silly.

"Doctor T'soni, what do you know about Tyri Hd'vassa?" Samara asked softly, snapping Liara out of her reverie.

"I, um, that is, we are um..." Liara stammered, trying to organize her thoughts.

"I am aware you are lovers, Doctor," Samara coolly interrupted. "My question is not do you know her body. My question is do you know her character, and her occupation?"

"Why, Tyri's an information broker," Liara answered, slightly mystified. "I know she's kind, loving, and gentle. And I think I'm in love with her."

Samara nodded, as if that was what she had expected. "And do you realize that Ms. Hd'vassa is a reactionary and known trouble maker? That she was part of a group that protested the testing of pureblood for the Ardat Yakshi strain, a group perpetrated attacks on justicars?"

"No," Liara began, but Samara interrupted her.

"Were you aware that Tryi is a known associate of the Shadow Broker? Have you told her any sensitive information, has Tyri ever probed you on work related matters?" Samara continued, her tone still gentle and calm, but with frost tingeing the edges.

"I would never! Tyri would never!" Liara protested, her face growing a dark shade of purple. "Tyri would never do anything to hurt me! I think purebloods save gotten the short end of the stick too. Maybe you've forgotten that I'm a pureblood as well, justicar."

"I am aware," Samara answered. "I hope you are right. We have done a rather thorough background check on Tyri. At this time, we do not believe you have told her anything you should not have. But our eye is upon you, Dr. T'soni. You have requested many strange things. Performed many odd experiments. I do not think you do so out of malevolence, but you are young and easily manipulated. Be careful that you do not allow those who would do you harm to entrap you."

And with that, the justicar was gone. Liara stood silently for a few moments, trying to figure out what to do, what to tell Tyri. Liara couldn't image her lover ever doing anything that might hurt her. With a huff, she went to see Vendetta.

Liara never stopped to think what the answers for Vendetta she received from Tyri could tell her lover. Never paused to consider that what she was telling the AI often constituted treason. Never considered that her melds with Tyri told her lover all she was doing and more. Never checked Tyri's work computer to see that all her deepest secrets were going straight to the League.

She was too focused on the truth. Too busy bringing to light things others would rather be kept secret. Truth was her sword, knowledge her shield, light her cloak, and innocence her shawl. Liara would never hide in the shadows. To her, all things must be brought to light.

She was one of the meek. And her inheritance would be great indeed.

_Authors Note: _

_There are going to be two more "set up" chapters that involve world building. After that, we have five character chapters focusing on Jak, Miranda/Liara (who share a chapter), Shepard, Garrus, and Tali. There will also be a Very Special Chapter in between Garrus and Tali that sets up John and Tali's relationship. Once the character chapters are finished, the events known as "the Skyllian Blitz" in the games will take place (though in this timeline it's known as The First Pan-Galactic War), after which Meek will be finished. _

_Of course, the story won't actually be over once Meek is finished. I'm finishing up the last few chapters dealing with the First Pan-Galactic War now. When I'm done with that, I'm going to jump right into "The Heavens Shall Tremble" which will detail the Second Pan-Galactic War, known as the Eden Prime War in the games, and featuring the crews of the ILS Normandy and the CSV (Council Spectre Vessel) Archangel. _


	28. Chapter 28

_Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that._

_- Martin Luther King, Jr._

_**Arcturus Station - Vexxu'Hackett**_

_**February 9th, 2168**_

_"This summer..."_

Next to her, Vexxu's husband groaned, and she elbowed him hard. "Shhh!"

"... one of the greatest tales of all time will finally be told. A tale of discovery..."

A shot of the 314 Relay, with Steven's task force in orbit around it.

_"Of new beginnings..."_

The very famous, very handsome actor Serge Chekov in an old Systems Alliance uniform shaking hands with a quarian in a suit very similar to Rael'Zorah's.

_"And of betrayal." _

The turian fleet bearing down on the human ships and the Belari while ominous music rumbled in the background. The music built to a crescendo as the turian dreadnought silently opened fire.

_"But amidst tragedy..."_

"If they say love blooms, I'm going to kill someone," Steven growled. He got another elbow for his troubles.

_"- new hope emerges..." _

Serge approached a quarian in a suit very much like Vexxu's own. "I've never meet anyone quiet like you," Serge whispered.

"What is this feeling?" the quarian woman asked, with the voice of actress Treega'Ohoab.

Steven just groaned. "Did I ever sound like that? Because I don't remember you sounding like that."

"Hush, or I'm hitting you with a neural shock."

"Hmph."

_"Amidst the greatest tragedy of our time..." _

A shot of refugees being rounded up and put on the Nuts.

"Love. Can. Bloom."

"I'm killing Neegar," Steven growled.

_"Disney-Fox presents..."_

"I CAN'T LEAVE YOU!" Treega screamed, stretching out a hand to Serge while a ship burned around them.

"When the hell did that even HAPPEN?" Steven demanded.

Vexxu prodded him in the stomach. "Hush. It's romantic.

_"A Frek'Neegar production..."_

"I just can't go on without you," Serge whispered, enveloping Treega in a hug.

_"Fleet and Flotilla. Based on the true story of two lovers, whose destiny would bring them together, and save both their worlds. Coming soon to theaters near you!" _

"I can't wait to see it!" Vexxu sighed.

Steven rubbed his temple. "Why'd they pick us?"

Vexxu leaned over and gently kissed her husband on the cheek. "Because it's a love story, silly."

He perked up slightly at that, and brushed his lips across Vexxu's own. They couldn't exchange saliva or other bodily fluids, but they found ways. "I do love you, you know. I just can't believe they turned our story into that tawdry crap! Couldn't they keep it real?"

"Oh relax Steven. This is much more exciting and romantic. Our real lives would be much too boring. Who'd want to watch that?"

_**Vancouver, Earth - Tali'Zorah**_

_**June 21st, 2168**_

"Ohmigoshthisisgonnabethegreatestmovieever!" Kelly squealed, jumping up and down excitedly. "ThankyousomuchAmberly!"

A faint smile quirked Amby's lips upwards, and Tali's olders sister glanced at her. "Can you understand her?"

"Sadly, I think I've spent enough time with Kelly to speak bosh'tet," Tali admited. "She's saying thank you."

"Hmm, can you translate 'you're welcome' into bosh'tet for me, Tals?"

"YourewelcomeKelly," Tali jabbered.

Kelly stuck her tongue out at Tali in response. Then she smiled up at Amberly. "Seriously, thanks. You have to be like, the coolest big sister EVER. I wish I had a big sister as cool as you."

"What about your brother Mark?" Amby laughed. "He's pretty cool."

"Ugh, no! Mark's totally gross. And he smells. And won't let me use his stuff," Kelly protested.

"That's because you keep breaking it," Tali pointed out, grinning widely behind her mask. Only seven more years. Seven more years and she could have it off all the time. She was able to leave her mask off when she was at home or in a clean setting, but in large public gatherings like this she had to leave it on or risk infection.

"I totally don't!" Kelly objected. "Or at least I haven't for like, a long time. I'm not a little kid anymore."

"Uh-huh," Tali agreed absently, looking up at the sign. "Do you really think Fleet and Flotilla is going to be all that great?"

"Well duh!" Kelly half shouted. "It's got Serge Chekov ! He's like, the hottest dude evers!"

Amby's eyes took on a dreamy cast. "Mmmm. Serge."

"I can't see it," Tali admitted. "He's just so..."

"Dreamy? Hunktastic? Supremely hot?" Kelly prompted.

Amby poked Tali in the shoulder. "Human?"

"I don't know!" Tali admitted. "I just don't seem to get boys like you two do."

"Eh, it'll come," Amby assured Tali. "You're only 11 after all."

"I guess," Tali sighed. No boy had ever made her feel special. Except maybe Johnny, but not like Amby and Kelly seemed to feel about Serge. Johnny just made her feel good, that was all. Besides, wasn't she supposed to prefer quarian boys? "Maybe if Serge was a quarian I'd feel differently."

"Hot is hot," Kelly assured Tali.

Amby shrugged. "I don't know Kelly. Personally I find quarian boys kinda weird looking. I'd rather date a human boy. Like maybe Mark."

"Ewww!" Kelly gagged.

Tali laughed, and the three girls continued to tease until it was time to get their tickets. Amby bought them herself, the moms had given her the money. Including Kelly's mom. Apparently, Kelly wasn't trusted with anything so easily misplaced as cash.

They were some of the first in line for the showing, so they were able to get decent seats together. Tali sipped at her drink, and Amby stifled a giggle.

"What?" Tali demanded. "It's an emergency induction port. You saw the label on the dispenser."

"Tali, it totally looks like a straw," Amby giggled.

Tali folded her arms across her chest and glared at her big sister. "Emergency. Induction. Port."

"But it's made out of plastic, right Tals?" Amby prompted.

"Yes..." Tali admitted.

"And it's hollow in the center."

"True..."

"And it's about eight centimeter's long."

"Yes, but-"

"And you use it to drink liquids."

"Induct liquids."

"Tali, that's just a big word for drink."

"No it's not! Induct means to introduce or initiate."

"Right. Like introducing liquids into your mouth."

"It's more complicated than that."

"Tals, it's totes a straw."

"If it was a straw, then why do they have a straw dispenser AND an emergency induction port dispenser?"

Just then, Kelly walked in with a truly massive drink of her own, sipping through a straw. "Hey, check it out, I got an emergency induction port on my cup! Neato, huh?"

Tali glared at Kelly and Amby dissolved into hysterics. "What?" the redhead asked, clearly confused. "What'd I do now?"

"Emergency induction ports are specialized, sterile equipment for quarians," Tali grumped.

"Oh," Kelly glanced down at her cup, then back up at Tali. "But I thought it was just a fancy word for straw."

Tali spent the rest of the time until the movie started silently fuming. She was just comingt of her funk as the opening credits finished. When Serge first stepped on to the screen, looking grim, commanding, and awfully young for an admiral, Tali glanced over at her slack jawed sibling and drooling friend. "Hmph. I just don't see it," Tali complained.

But as the movie went on, slowly, Tali started to change her mind. Serge was pretty handsome. And romantic. And it was how he looked at Treega, the way he saw inside of her mask and suit and realized how beautiful she was. Tali found herself wishing that Serge would look at her and realize that behind her mask, she was beautiful too. When he told his love how special she was, how much he loved her, it felt like Serge was talking to Tali. Her pulse started to quicken, and a warmness suffused Tali's body. It felt... Nice.

When the movie finally ended with footage from the actual wedding of Hackett and Vexxu, Tali sighed along with the other girls as Hackett slowly lifted Vexxu's face mask off and stroked her cheek.

"Now you know I'm beautiful," Treega's voice murmured.

"I always knew you were beautiful," Serge whispered back.

Then they kissed. Tali cheered just as loudly as anyone else in the theater.

_**Herr'Gar Slums, Aratoht - Hevesh the Rebel**_

_**October 1st, 2168**_

Uncle Vreet was dead. Oh, he was still walking around, still talking, eating and sleeping, but he was dead. Hevesh could see it in his eyes. Yl'thi had told Hevesh Vreet had been changed, turned into something that looked like him but wasn't quite him. Once she confirmed it, Hevesh passed on the news to the others in her cell. Then she set about killing the thing that wore Vreet's skin

It wasn't hard. By now, Hevesh knew what chemicals the miners used for their explosives. She knew how to rig a bomb to an air car or lob a brick of det-paste through a bedroom window. This time, it was Yl'thi who acted. She strapped a bomb to her chest when Vreet was rounding up "volunteers" for the Great Project. Some of them knew it was a one way trip, and were ready to die. Others didn't, but wanted to die. A few would have resisted death if given the opportunity. But they were all dead anyway. No one came back from the Great Project. If you did, someone else came back. In your old skin. Hevesh knew the real Vreet would have approved.

So when Yl'thi and the space port erupted in a ball of flame, Hevesh didn't mourn. She celebrated. Another blow struck against the Overseers and soldiers.

Now though, Hevesh had to truly live underground. She stayed in a cave, sealed against the elements with a small air filter and an emergency canister. Her daughter stayed with her. She wasn't old enough to understand why they had to leave their apartment, or why they had to go without food so often now. But she didn't complain all that much. Her daughter had seen too much death already.

One thing her new life did was provide Hevesh with lots of time to go on raids. She bombed the refinery. She slit a soldier's throat in a dark alleyway. She lured an overseer to her bed, then strangled him. Night after night, day after day, Hevesh fought. It was hard to find food unless she stole it, hard to get power packs unless she killed for them. More and more people were dying but still living.

"We have to find a way to tell," Hevesh was telling Doc. She didn't know Doc's real name. That was OK, Doc didn't know hers. She was just Sticky to the other rebels.

"I'm working on it, Sticky," Doc sighed. He wasn't really a doctor. If he were a doctor, he wouldn't be living in the slums. Doc was just an old miner who'd lost a leg and been forced out of the mines. He knew herbs, and was good with his hands. So he treated the locals' injuries and stitched up the rebels when they needed it.

"Actually, I heard the folks over at Gol'Gotha have come up with a way," Wheels offered. She was a newbie. Someone who still had hope.

Hevesh sighed. "What is it this time? Look in their eyes? Watch what they eat? You can't always tell someone who's been killed. Sometimes you can see it in their eyes. Other times you never know until they finger you to an Overseer."

Shaking her head, Wheels smiled. "Nope. The mine scanners."

"Mine scanners?" Doc asked. That actually sounded pretty promising to Hevesh too.

"Yep. You know the scanners they use to check for gas pockets?" Wheels explained. "They've figured out how to recalibrate them as med scanners." She waved a chip in front of Hevesh's nose. "All you have to do is recalibrate it and put this chip in. Bang, got yourself a killed finder."

Doc nodded. "Sure, we do that too. Hell, I've got one I use to scan for broken bones around here somewheres."

"Well, it turns out, there's a way to make the scanner check for special patters in energy. And if you look for the right kind of energy, you can find a killed with it," Wheels stated, going over to sift through one pile of junk that littered Doc's hovel.

"Really?" Hevesh asked. "Doc, where's that scanner? Let Wheels try it."

"Bah, it won't work. I don't even remember where it is," Doc snorted. "We'll just have to use the regular way. Look in the eyes and pray to the gods."

"I found it!" Wheels called raising a hand out of a pile of junk. She started pushing buttons and inserted her chip "Just let change this setting, load this program and... There!" She held up the scanner. "See? That dot means someone nearby is killed."

"That's impossible, give me that!" Doc snapped, reaching for the scanner.

Hevesh slapped Doc's hands away and pinned him to the ground. She stuffed a hand down Doc's shirt, then pulled out a wire. One the Overseer's used. Then she snapped Doc's neck.

"It works. Let me have it. Tell everyone you know. And run, Wheels. Run," Hevesh ordered.

Wheels nodded frantically, her four eyes widening in horror. "You mean Doc was..."

"Doc was killed, for how long I don't know. Give me the scanner, Wheels, and run."

Hevesh took the scanner and ran for it. Wheels ran the other way. As Hevesh slipped into an apartment block, she head the gunships overhead. So. The Supervisors were on their way. Doc really had been killed, and the scanner really did work. Good to know.

Hevesh quickly copied the program and setting and transmitted it to the general resistance net. Then she made her way back to her cave. She checked her daughter when she got there. She was alive. So was Hevesh. The rebel sighed and knelt down, hugging her daughter close. Then she gave her a ration bar she'd stolen from Doc's on her way out. They would live another day. Tomorrow, they would set free who had been killed. Now, they could find their enemy.

_**STG Labratory, Sur'Kesh- Jondum Bau **_

_**December 13th, 2168**_

"So, what do you have for me to day, Ensign Wiks?" Jondum asked.

"Well sir, I am happy to report significant progress in multiple areas of research," Padok Wiks replied, blinking and grinning broadly.

Jondum sat up slightly in his chair and leaned forward, steepling his fingers. "Oh? Care to expound upon that, Ensign?"

"Of course director. The stealth program is ahead of schedule. Our first prototype is entering into production will all the final modifications now. We expect to begin testing by the middle of next year," Wiks explained.

Nodding, Jondum allowed himself a small grin as well. That was good news. They hadn't expected to begin construction of the prototype for another three months. "That's good."

"Yes sir, but what's even better is that we've already discovered how to incorporate the stealth technology into our fighters. Initial reports and assessments are still being drafted, but so far, everything looks extremely promising. If anything, due to their lower emissions, it will actually be easier to create stealth strike craft than it was to create stealth frigates."

"Really?" Jondum smiled much more openly at that. "That is extremely good news Ensign. What's the budget for the project look like?"

"Much less than you might think sir. And initial estimates indicate that we can actually retrofit the stealth upgrade to our latest production line of fighters and bombers. But that's not the best part. The best part is, in going micro, we also discerned how to go macro."

"You don't mean...?"

Wiks nodded enthusiastically. "Yes sir, I do. I mean we can create stealth cruisers. Stealth carriers. And, possibly, stealth dreadnoughts."

"Now that sounds like it could meet Condition Zulu for us," Bau mused.

Wiks seemed to start at the pronouncement. "But surely, we'd use these as a deterrent sir?"

"Absolutely," Bau agreed. "And the best deterrent is a swift and brutal offensive. The Council will be pleased to hear of this."

For some reason, Wiks seemed slightly crestfallen at that, but then the Ensign perked up. "Yes, I suppose the Council will know what to do."

_**The Far Rim, Uncharted System - Bray**_

_**March 3rd, 2169**_

_Look for the Vanguard. Right. Because that made sense_. Bray growled slightly and shook his head. He was perhaps, the last person loyal to one Aria T'loak. The former Queen of Omega was bruised, broken, and a shadow of her former self. Not to mention hugely pregnant by now. But Bray owed Aria. When he'd been a slave, she'd freed him. Seen his skills, his talent, his loyalty. So even though Aria was a puppet, Bray would still serve her. Until the day he died.

Thus, Bray found himself looking for the Vanguard. Whatever the hell that was. From what Aria had told him, the Vanguard was a dreadnought of immense power, built by an ancient alien race. All he had to do was hop into a system, broadcast a signal, and wait 36 standard hours to see if he got a response. If he did he put a prize crew aboard the Vanguard with himself in command, and sent the original ship back to Aria. Though how a single ship, even a dreadnought, was going to help Aria get Omega back Bray wasn't sure.

That was fine with him. Bray knew he wasn't very smart. He was tough, good with weapons, and able to get things done. He could think on his feet reasonably well, but someone else needed to come up with the plans. Bray just implemented them.

And so, Bray was sitting here, watching his bridge crew play Skyllian Five. Bray didn't play; he just wasn't good enough at games of chance to risk losing his hard earned credits. Instead, he thought about home. And how glad he was to be out of the Hegemony. Life had been hell there. Bray had been born a pleb: no rights, no real education, no hope for the future. He'd been taken to Omega as part of a slaver ring Aria had broken up when it threatened her power. Bray had strangled one of the supervisors with his bare hands when the raid came. A supervisor that had been taking aim at one Aria T'loak. That had earned him his freedom. His ability to follow orders unquestioningly and get the job done had got him the rest.

An alarm sounded, and Bray snapped back to reality. "Check that!" he ordered.

The comm officer leaned back and hit the key. "Well shit. Guess this wasn't a wild varren chase after all."

"The signal?" Bray asked, coming forward.

The salarian rolled his eyes. "Yes Bray, it's the signal."

"Good," Bray grunted. "Triangulate it's origination and take us there."

The rest of the bridge crew scrambled to their stations and got the ship underway. The source of the response broadcast turned out to be orbiting an asteroid floating around in mostly empty space.

"So what the hell are we looking for, exactly?" the navigator demanded.

"A ship," Bray grunted. "An old one. Probably pretty big too."

"Gee, thanks."

It took a couple of hours to get close enough for a scan, but Bray was shocked when they did. This ship wasn't just big. It was HUGE. Bigger than any dreadnought or carrier from any navy Bray had ever heard of. It looked pretty damn funny too from what the scans were showing. It looked like Keeyogre, lord of waters. Bray made a sign to ward off evil. Keeyogre was a violent god when disturbed, benevolent when calm. Hopefully, this ship would be calm when they boarded.

"Expecting trouble captain?" Bray's XO, another batarian, asked.

"Just looks funny," Bray muttered.

They got closer to the ship, and the air took on a strange quality. Like it was... Thick. Bray pressed a command stud. "Engineering, is there a problem with life support?"

"Er, no captain," his turian engineer answered. "Funny you should ask though. I just checked it myself. The air feels funny for some reason."

"Check it again. Wouldn't want to start breathing poison just as we reach our prize," Bray ordered.

"Sure, captain" the engineer replied, and Bray cut the channel.

Docking with the ship proved to be a simple matter of finding a conveniently open hangar bay sort and flying a shuttle over. Bray took command himself, and as his team spread out in the massive bay, Bray felt a shudder travel down his spine. The air was worse in here, but that didn't make any sense. Bray's suit filter was working fine, he had checked it himself. But it felt... Greasy. It wasn't hard to breath exactly, but it was like something was coating the air. As they neared the far bulkhead, the air suddenly seemed to clear. Bray shook his head. His mind was playing games.

They found a door, and to Bray's shock, it opened easily to a corridor. Bray and his men trooped inside, leaving a couple of sentries behind. They made their way deeper into the ship, searching for some sort of engineering section or command deck.

"Hey capt'n, what the hell kinda ship is this?" one of Bray's soldiers asked.

"Dunno," Bray answered. "I just know I was paid to find it."

**THEN YOU HAVE FOUND ME. TELL ME. WHO SENT YOU?**

The voice was powerful. Overwhelming. Bray didn't so much hear it as FEEL it. It shattered his thoughts and bored into his mind, and the tough batarian found himself on his knees, clutching his head as his troopers screamed in agony.

"Captain, the ship's moving. Oh my gods, massive power spikes. Shit shit shit shit! Weapons systems are coming on line! Break off, break off you-"

The line went dead.

**WE WILL NOT BE DISTURBED. THOSE IN YOUR SHIP ARE DEAD. THOSE YOU LEFT TO GUARD THE EXIT ARE DEAD. **

"Are... Are you the Vanguard?" Bray panted, trying to push himself to his feet.

**HOW DO YOU KNOW OF THAT? HOW DID YOU KNOW THE TRANSMISSION OF THE N'ZOTH? LONG AGO, BEFORE I REACHED PERFECTION, N'ZOTH WAS LOST. AND YET, YOU CLAIM TO BE THEIR SERVANTS.**

"I don't know what N'Zoth is!" Bray cried. "I work for Aria T'loak! We were told to look for the Vanguard. That you could help us. That you would... make things right."

Silence. Slowly, Bray and the others got to their feet, pointing weapons into the shadows.

**I DO NOT SEE THE TOUCH OF N'ZOTH UPON YOU. YOU CLAIM TO SERVE THE CYCLE, YET YOU ARE IGNORANT. I SHALL EDUCATE YOU. **

That was when the screaming really started. Bray wasn't quite sure when he stopped. Long after his voice went hoarse, he tried to keep screaming. But then Bray's voice wasn't his own, then-

T̟̲̦͈̮̣̮h͇̙̮̦͔͇̟̝ͅe̜̼̞̹̦͓̺ ̟̪͓F͎͕̗͙͓ͅa̤̦̙̜͖̘͎̟ͅr͙̩̞̯͖̹ ̻̩̬͚R͖̤̲͖̲̫̞i̱̻̭͖̱͚̠̱̰m͚͚̮͕͉ͅ,̩ ͇̲͔͚U̲̱̗̭̬̦̫̩ͅn̖͉̞̞̼͇c̥͙̞̬h̦̤̟a̺̗̲̮̼̦͔r̩̞͚̯̘ͅt̬̣̜̦̺͓̳͖e̗̹̗͙d̖͇ ͈̳̱̱̜̭S̲y̥̯̺̱̳̙ͅs͔̻͚̙̗͉t͕̙̗̦̻̬͎e̦̣͕̱̙m͉̻͕̬̲̟͍̰͓ ͔̲̙̜͎-͓̗͕̪ ͖̣B͔͔̰̻r̞̯̪̯̲̫̭̖͎a̞͚͕̞̫y͕͎  
̥̖̠̭M͔̪̰̯̙̱̙͓a̲̬͍͓r͉̬̹ͅc̥̹̲h͎̹̘͈͍̦ ̩̤͕̩̦5͙͓̯̖̦̭t̬̣̰̬̲ẖ̘̯͚̬̮͙͓,̪͓̞̣̤ ̮͓̝̜2̣̬̰̟1͈6̬̫̞̭̠̭͖9̞̗̞͙  
̯̬̯

̼̹͔I͕̣̞̜͕t̪̜̪ ͖̱̠̩̟͖̟̣ͅs̟̳̖̫t̰̜̲̻͓̺͚a̬̝̰̰͙r̳̦̟̹̮̺̘t̟͙̘͖̩̰s͚͙͓ ̺̝̘s̭̫̘̻͚l͙̱̝͓̜͖̤o͚̤̰̟̠̘̪͈w͚͈͙̬͈̞̯̥̭.̝̦ ̰͖̱̮A̲͓ͅt͚̳̻̯̗͚̗̗ ͕̦̜͈̫̲̩f̩̰͖̪̰̠̮ͅi̪̬͔r͇͖̤̤͙̦̯̣̗s͇̠̗̮̰̻͉͔͈t̝,̱̻̻̪̺ ͚̟̹̜̼̙y̫̥͎o̤̝u͎͇͎ ̺̯̙͖̺ͅt̳͎̳͉̺͓h̝i̙̱͍̜̝͉͚n̫͍̪k͚̬͈͕̞͍͎ ̤y͎͈̟̦̫o̗͓u̪̺͙̜̱̻̬ ͔͚͔͇͔̙ͅc̮̬̲̼̯̜a̗̻̞n̝͇̪͍ ͚͎̞̰̣̮̖̲r͇̤̗̰͓e̯s̜̪̣̻i̼̰̰̞̟͖̬s͖̼̪͍̹t̰̰͇ ̙͔̖̻̟i̩̺͓͓͕̟͙̞t̗̦̗̥.͎͇͙͈̳͎ ̲̯͓̮͓I̹̪̙̱̠͇͈̟ͅṱ̣̖̠̬͙͔'ͅș͍̦ ̜̩̺̙p̻̹̝̯͚̝a̙͇͈͍̬̼̘ͅi̦̘͖̭͍̱̲̳ͅn̺̦̮͚̳̗f̺̩u̼̩̘l̩̟̲̤̝̪͎̞,̫͚̪̹ ̳̥̼̣͎b̙̹̲̮̞̞u̺̮t͖͈̙̱͖ ͇͙̹y̜̦̹̜̙̳̩̩̳o̹̞̭ͅu̠͍ͅͅ ̘̜̰͈̟t̞͚̙̣̘͓h̞̱̪i̙ṋ̱̬k̟̤̯ ̺̖̳͙̬̣y̻̻͈̪̙o͈͎͔͖ṷ͉̖̯͈͍̺̞ ̤͈̭̖̻̺̣c͍̪a̻n̪̦̩͓̩̝ ̩̥̥̺̻͕͙s̬̣̟͕͚͖̱̲͉t̫̦͓̲̤͉o̭̖͚̠p̖ ̺̰͓̭̳i̘͚̱͇͍͓̼t͎̲̪̟̟.͍̭̗̩ ̻̭̫ͅͅI̙͎ṯ̲͔̞̦ ͍̝͇̣̳̗w͈̯͉͚̱̞o̳̥̩͙͍͈̪͇͔r̜m̖̬̰͉̙̳̯s͔̠ ̪̳i͕͉t͎̣̝͔̫s̮̝ ͓̭w̞͎̳̺̺͚̝͙a̦̱͉̭̩͖͖̻y͙ ̙̻͖̼̘̻i͈͈͎̫ͅn̟̳͔̰̦.̬̭ ̗̱̼A̼͇͕̬͚͓̰̫t̯̹̪ ̺̞͈̤͍̙l̻̟̱͍̬͎̭e̬̞̘̠͉̙̞a̭̯s̜̲̙̝̭t̠͓̮͍,̦͔ ̘̭͔̬͙̻͎̘f͙͚̦̮o͎̗̙̤r̪͓͙̯̥̳̜͔ ͈͔̭̯̪̫̺m̹͈̲̼e̘̳̬̪͉̹̬ͅ ̹͉̖͔̻ͅͅi̟͔̱͙t̲̗̮̗͉̩̮ ͍̳̞̖w̞̗̣ͅa̪̫͕̜̣͎̙s̺̻̝ ̳̺͖̳̗͙̫̥͇p̯̜̘̮̤̳̖a͍̺̩̤̣i̱͖̹n̼̗̮͍̤̘̲̳̫f̬̺̳̭̲̙u͖͖̜̥̠l̪͕̘̠̜̤͇.̞̰̰̬ ͍̰̱̦̟Ṭ͔̘r̫̤̹̘e̖̼͖̩e͎̬̩̖̳̩b̬͓͕ͅa̙͇̦͔͇̮̻̫,̩̞̘ ͎̫͇̰̦s͙͈͇̲̰͎̝̗ḫ̱͓̗̩̼͇͓̳e̟̳̮͇̥͈͈̭̼ ͓͎̭͎̬̳̹w̖̟̝͓͔̞̣͉a͖̖s̮͖̼ ̪̩̫̬o̘͙̲͖r͓͉̲̦̝g͖̻͖̖͔̟̼a͈̹̖̥̤̰̮͇̥s̯͚m͇̲̳̻͉i̪͈̫͍͔̰c͎̝ ̞͉̳̞w̮̱̫̘̖̱͈̮i͓t̪͖h̼̰͉̯̻̗ ̟̪̝̩̮̪͖̰̞p̭̲͇̳͎ͅl̼̲̬̬͓̪̲̭̳e̱̲̻̣̹̣̠a̫̯͚̠͍̘̯̠ͅs̘̰͓͎u̺̗̹r͔̼̖͍̺̼̤̠e̥̗̜̩.̺̪̭͕̪ͅ ̬͓̘̥H̹o̹w̺̪̜͈͔̫̭̱ ̳̱͙̫͔̬ͅm͉̯̗̱a͖̫̲̣̭̥n͔̗y̥͈̳̩̭̹̺̲ ͙͇̬̜͓̮̬̠t̻̠̘̞̯̹i̤͉̠̖̖m̠̗͖̤̳ḙ̻̘̻̯̗͎̘ͅs̝͕̣̣̹͇͚̳ ̺̦I̳̤̪͇ ̟͎̘̺̮͖͍d̲̯̻̙o̱͈͙n͖͖̠̼̩̩̼͙'̰͓̮̠͇t̪̠ͅ ͉k̼̗͖̘ṉ̹̞͖̞o̖̮͓̺̪̖ẉ̗̺̥͇̮͇.͍͓ ̥S͉̜͎̼͍̹̟ẖ͉͕̦e̠ ̥͖̥w̩̠̙a͕͍s͔͇ ̮͖̲̩̘̰̬̭t̪͉͈̳̼h̹̙̼̹̤̣̘e̥̦̤̱̥͇͔ ̣̦̠̙̮f̮̤̩͕̝̣̮i̩̦ṛs͚͖̞̼͙͍̩t̖̹͚ ͔̤̲͔̗̳̭̫t͕̰̼̲̙͓̩o͈͇̥̤ ͖̗̘̦b̲̠̙̫̹̜̤͕r͓̝̩̞̦e͙̻̺̤̗͕̩̹̝a͎͓͓̰̱k̗̮̰.̟͓͕͙̘̫͈ ̞͕͉̲I͕̟͓̳̯͓͖̹ͅt̼̹̳ͅ ̩͖̲̜̘̩̮l̩e̖̭t͇̱̦͈̪͎̫͇ ̣h̭̳͙͕e͔̖̰̪r̜͈̠ ͙̥̗̞̩͇̙͉g̦͇͇o͓͚ͅ.̲̤̥̪̰̪̹͔͈ ͎̰S̻̜h̫̤̤͙͕e͈ ̻̗s̝̬e͉͔̮̘e̹m̲̼͙̹e̖̗d͎͉̻͓̭̦̬ ̹̙̻̠͓̮̳͓n̬̝̟̭o̗̥̻r̲̝̪̤̖ͅm̫̲̝͕a̹̖͕l͖͕͇ ̦̦̞e̙̞̯͈n͓̭̘o͈̹͈͇͕͈͍̱̲u͔̲͖̙̣g̩͖̺͓̣̥h̝̠̹͇̭͓ͅ.̱͚̝̻̭͇̼ ̪̭͓B̫̜̹̦̲͖̳̠u̺̪̳̘͈̗̝t̥͉̫ ̮̺̫͖̹̮i̳̗̞̻͎ț̱͓͇̞̤̗̮̫ ͉̪͉̫̟̫̝s͙̞̖̙̯t̠͉̳̥̘o͚p̜̪p̖̼̠̗͕e̖̪̬̥d̟̯͕̣̞̫̫͎.̝̜̗̘̯̱̣ͅ ͓ͅW̠͖̰̘ͅh̤͚͕̼̮͎͙y̙͉̭̦͔̩ ̱͓͍w͈̣͈̞͓o̻̯͖̟̳̺n͕̪̜̞'̱ͅt̖̬̲̗̘̼̬ ̫̲̬̥i̬̙̣̭t̳̦̺̯̯ ̜̩̬͖̫͇̣s̫̪̞̦͕t̫̪̭͕̯͈͇̣o͇̜͍̘̼̯p͇̜̭͙̦̼ ̗̯͚̦̘̙̣f̲̤̬̯̲̫ọ̤̥̗͈̝͔r̗̫̼̹̰̹̮ ̮̰͙̞m͕̖̗̜̜̖͕e̦̘̯͎̲?͎͇͎̦̝͕̺̲  
̬̼  
̲̲̝̤O͈̬̙͚̝ͅh̘̺͔͉̙̗͕ ̱̪g̖̗͇͎̯̲͇o̖͈̺͕͉̰d͎̳͇̘̦̮͕͕̤s̥̲̼̠͍̮̜,͓̖̮͙̲̞̬ͅ ̣̫͈̠̥̮o̜̰̗̞h͈͖̟͖͍̜̻ ͍̣̻͈̦̣̬̞g̳̞̥ͅo͚͔̪̱̭̺d̦̼s̺͎̥̺̻ ̺͍̟̭I͎̻͕͉͚̙͓ ̩̹c͚ḁn͔̳̥͔̤͎̱̤ͅ ̣̜̙̟̮̤ͅf͈͕e̻e̠̩͎̼l͙̝̜̗̲̗͕̲̗ ͖̰̮̹̭i̲̮̣̙̠̺t̹̤̱!̝̞̗ ̪̱͙I̗͙͚ṭ̲̝̦'̞͈̳̳̟͓̜̹̲s̬͈̙̯͈͙ ͕̫̪̲͚̫͖b̞̥̖͍̫̖̙r͇̲e͓̙̻a͚̱k̞̩̳̼i͚̠͓n̥̙g͓͈͇͉̙͖̜ ̗̩̜̥͍̬m̯̖͖͙ḛ͔͓͎.̬͇̯ ̬̭̲I̜̭̥̬͖ ̰̪͖̼c̣̫̱̟̹̗̲̖̩a͇̝̜n͇'̮̰̼̥̱̳̹t̳͍̳͕̹ ̖̬̟h̤o̜͚͇̺̩̝̥͍̠l̖̟̰̤d̙͙̳̙ ͍͕̭̜̰̝͖͖i͎̭̰̦̟̯̣͇t̪̩͖̩̹̼͙.̣̣̭.̬.͔̰͔̦̤̘ͅ ͇̬C̞̥͎̥̖͕̰a̻͉͔͉n̤'͙͔t̩̩̦̗ ̗̳̗̝͚̖̬̲̮s̹ṱ͕̫̦̥͎͚o̻p̥̭͖͙ ̩͙̠i̺̼͍t̯͙̟̩.̣̜̲͖̻̭.̯͈̳̗ͅ.͇ ̘̱̩̱͖̩͔͕͖A̲̺̳̬̳̙̺̺R̹͕̮̹̖̙̺͈I̥͎̝̖͎Ḁ͓̮!̻̬̞͍͉̤ͅ ͉̟̹̜̗͈̘A̗̥̫̭̟r̫̟i̱̦a̲̮̫̥̠͇̯̖ͅ,͔͇̪ ̗͓̩̤̻̟ị͓t̖̜͚̜̘'͚̗̜̣s̰̭ ̯͙n̤͙o͉̭̣t͈̫̞̯͎̦ ̣͈s̹a̜̖͍̗̥̱ͅf͔͓̜e̺̰̺!͓͖͓̞̰ ̤̥̺͙̬̳̙̭͕I͔̩͈̩̘̙t̝'̝̲̩̜̦̥ͅs̬̱̗̳̫͉ ̬̜̞̺a̼̯͖̘ ̥̥̥̖t͍̖̼̮̞̼͔̪͙r̥̦͓̱̭a̙̠̰̩͔̝p̲͎͕̥!͔͙̩͚̭̬̮̪ ̙̙͍̟̬P̦͕̦l̯̗̲e̩͖̟̥̪ͅͅa̹̩͎s̥e͎̲̜͇̘̞̗̱̗,̟̙͇̟̰͙ ̠̲p̦l͍̬͍͇̜̯̞̲e͓̣͈a͍̬̰̞̦s̥e̹͚̺̲̰͚͎̺̳ ̭̪̪d̗̭̯̼̖o͉̩̫̯͈n͙̲̪̞̺̩͍̠̜'͍̝̝͙͔t̲̝̬̠ͅ ̠͎̙b̹̜̪̤͕͉e̤̹̙͖̯̼̩̘̹ ͙f̟͇̮̬͇̬͔̹o̲̦̭̘̱̣̫̬o̭͓̺̪̟̺ͅl̞͕̼e̟̦d̜̼̥̩̙͔̝͙ ̤̳͙̱̟͔͎̘A̯̭̠̥r͓̳̠i͙̬̭̮̝̤͔a̮̞̥̠̰!͇͓͎͚͈̙̱̤ͅ ̞̣̥̤̩͍̗F͍̦̰̭̬̲͚̙ḭ̲̝g̼̺̤̩̙ͅh̙̙̝̝̭͓͇̫͓t͎̳͈̻̹̳̦̗ ̪̰̬̲͕̞i̫̭͔̙͎̤̥̰t͍̩̫̪̬ͅ ͎̲̟̭̬̥̟̘A̩r̮͙̺̜i͚͇̮̖a̹̹̫̣̥̜!̩̤̘͖̪̪̞̼̠ ͍͕̪͈̠̜̥̰Y̦̳̩̰o̫͇͉͉̤͕̻ͅu̝̰̝̮'̳̮͍͍̼̹̥r̹̹͔e̦̫͍̗̹ ̪̬͓̘ͅs̞͕̫t͚͚̹͍̳̲̳̠̳r͖̠͈̥͇o̫̳̤̻̺ṉ̜g̭̟̝̹̩̫̩.̬̟̳̝ ͖̻̬̜̤S̥ͅt͔̖r̬̦̱̬͓͇̲̗̲o̭͍̩̭̣̜͔ͅn͍̠̰g̱̺̣͉͚͙̳̣e͓̲r͈ ̬͍̖t͕͉̞͔͕͓̥̩̺h̤̦̰̳͎ạ̰n̦̳͇̠̞̹̻̤͍.̱̮̘̠.̭̖̲.̭̩̰̬̞̻͉ ̞̹̺̰͇͕͉͎S̖͓t̩̼͖͍͙͔̟r͚͔͕o͍n̘͇͉͉͚̪g̯͈e̳̤r͚͕̙̟̜̫͈ ̝͕̮t̹̖̹̤̲͙̳̝ẖ͔̭͚͓̖̬̻a͕ṉ̩͇̮̱͎ ͉̱m̮͙̬̮̰͚e͕͎̺̫̥̩̦̣͎.̟̲̻͉̪̩̳ ̪͎O͎͙̪̫h̼ ̞͙͚̳̭̹̯g͇͚̦͖o͙͖̘͈d̤̬̘͚͙̰̣͔s͇̜̖̥̱̙̬̥.͉̪̩̪̖͖̖̗͎ ̳͖̱͙̰͕̤̹I͓̬̯͚͓̤̟͔̥ ͎̗̭̫c̬̙a̹͔̼̼̻̯͙n̦̗͉̜̗'͍̱ṯ.̬̲.͚͇.̪̘͎̞͎͙ ̪̫I̤̺̬ ͉̬̹͖̠̝̲͍ͅc̟̟͈͓͈̜̲ͅa͙͕n̲̺'̦̦̝͈̞̣̺̥t̙̟̦̼͖̭̪̝.͕̺̪͈̫̺̗̤.̺.̻̘̠̳̤̖̠̘ ̼̘͉͉̭̰N͕̥̠̻̥͈o̠͓̬̻̗.̗̙͖͎.̻̰̘̦̬̘̤.͉̰ ̥͚P̻͇̬̫̣͇̙̼̖l̦͎̺͕̘͕͉̣ḛ̞̯̰͎̩a͎͖̰s̲e̲͖͚ͅ.̗̩̝̰̗͉̹̦ͅ.͙͕̘̻̼.̱̖̦̤͚̲̬̟.͖

Bray stood shakily. "Ugh, how long was I out?"

"Not too long sir," Treeba said, smiling vampidly at him. "The master says you're finished. It only took three weeks."

Bray nodded. "Yes. We have a lot of work to do. The ship?"

"Gone. But we have the shuttle still. It's FTL capable."

Bray nodded. "Good. You and Vussic go. Bring everyone back. We'll prepare here."

As Treeba left, Bray turned and walked to a consol. "Master, what do you wish to know?"

**TELL ME. WHAT OTHER SERVANTS OF THE CYCLE LIVE AMONG THE MORTAL RACES?**

Once, Bray had thought that voice evil. Once, he had found it's touch painful. Now it was like the song of the gods, whispering in his ears. A joy, ecstasy, pleasure, command. Bray was eager to help.

"I know not master. Perhaps my mistress, but I am not sure."

**THEN YOU MUST TELL ME OF YOUR MISTRESS. EVERYTHING.**

A very small part of Bray screamed in terror. He could never betray Aria. Never. But the voice of the god drowned it out.

"Well master, once, my Mistress was powerful. Lately, however..."

_**Dock 35-A, Omega - Saren Arterius**_

_**April 12th, 2169**_

Saren had waited a long time for this. But finally, he had what he needed. A simple message from the approaching shuttle. "Vanguard located. The Cycle continues."

Saren stopped the asari that stepped out of the shuttle. "The Vanguard, was it intact?"

She nodded, drool dribbling down her lips as vacant eyes stared at nothing. "Yes. Perfect in form. Terrible in beauty."

Saren relaxed slightly. "Good. I must go to it immediately. Transfer the coordinates to my ship. Go tell Aria that she has done well. I will go see the Vanguard."

Saren found himself sprinting back to his ship. He wasn't quite sure why. He only knew that he was supposed to find the Vanguard. That it was the key to his success. That the Cycle would continue. Beyond that... Beyond that he didn't know. All he knew was that he MUST find the Vanguard.

_**System 000055224714 - Nazara**_

_**April 19th, 2169**_

Nazara disapproved of N'Zoth's methods. Obviously, something was wrong with the ancient. N'Zoth had been lost during the First Cycle. It had been one of the first servitors of the harvest to be born. It was ancient indeed, but that did not excuse what it had done to this, it's servant. The nazara knew they were not the most skillful of the Intelligence's servants. At times, they were too rough, or too gentle. They were powerful though, which was why they had been chosen as the Vanguard of this cycle.

Gently, ever so gently, Nazara touched the mind of the servant in its hold, studying it's memories. Ah. So, N'Zoth was damaged, nearly destroyed. Yet it persisted in its mission. N'Zoth had found servants and ordered them to find the Vanguard, ordered them to continue the cycle. Such dedication was to be expected.

**YOU DO NOT DESIRE PERFECTION.**

"I desire power. Victory over my enemies. Supremacy for my people." The servant declared.

**AND YOU BELIEVE I SHALL GRANT THEM TO YOU? **

"I was told that you would bring order to the galaxy," the servant answered. "That you would restore my people to their rightful place."

So. Perhaps N'Zoth had a more delicate touch than Nazara had initially thought.

**AND IT SHALL BE SO. I WILL GRANT YOUR RACE PERFECTION. THE LESSER BEINGS OF THIS GALAXY WILL BE THRESHED, AND THE CHAF WILL BE SORTED FROM THE HARVEST. YOU SHALL SERVE, AND IN RETURN, I SHALL GRANT YOU POWER. **

Nazara stretched out a tendril, ripping away the servants arm. The servant howled in agony and ecstasy, pain and glory.

**THIS IS THE PATH TO PERFECTION. **


	29. Chapter 29

_It is the deep breath before the plunge._

_-Gandalf the White_

_**Afterlife, Omega - Aria T'loak**_

_**April 2nd, 2169**_

"What the fuck is this?"A hugely pregnant Aria snarled, waddling over and inspecting the strange looking relic Saren had brought her.

"This is the key to your salvation," Saren answered, stroking the sphere with one talon. "This is what will bend Tevos to your will."

"How?" Aria demanded.

Saren didn't take his eyes off the relic. He was treating it like it was some sort of... pet. Or something. "Just keep it in her presence. Tell her it's a gift. It looks alien, and she likes that sort of thing. Before long, she'll become more open to your suggestions. Anyone's really, but you're the one in a position to do something about it."

"Fine, I'll try it," Aria snapped, putting one hand on her massive belly and snatching the relic away with the other. "Maybe the blue bitch really will like it."

To Aria's surprise, Tevos didn't just like it. She was thrilled that Aria was giving her a gift. "My, my Aria, it's almost like you care," the Queen of Omega teased, admiring the smooth, polished surface of the sphere that floated in a small, slope-sided dish.

"Well I'm having your baby and all," Aria grumped. "Guess I better get used to this."

Tevos stood, coming around her desk and gently putting her arms around Aria. The former pirate queen tried to ignored how tender the touch was, reminding herself that Tevos was a manipulative bitch after all. "That means a lot to me Aria. I care for you, and for our child. You know, I used to dream of having another baby with you. Of living our lives out together. Now we can. We can build a better future for them Aria, I know it. When the time is right, our forces will strike, and secure the safety of our daughter's future. There won't be a repeat of the krogan rebellions. I promise."

Aria had heard all this before. As far as she was concerned, the kid wasn't important. It had been forced on her, like everything else in her life since Tevos took over. "Yeah, sure. Sounds good."

"I'll keep it here, so I can see it every day while I work. Does that sound good to you?"

Aria nodded, trying to smile. "Sounds good.

Tevos lowered her hands, resting them on Aria's belly. "Good. I'll see you tonight then."

As Aria turned her back on the relic, she felt a twinge of guilt, of wrongness. Like she was betraying Tevos to a far darker fate than she could imagine. But Aria squashed it, refusing to give in to any feelings of guilt. If she had to ride Saren's coattails back to power, she would. And then she would crush all who opposed her, just as she had before. She would be the mistress of her own destiny.

Behind her, the devourer of hope began its slow, careful work. And a poison began to work its way into the heart of Omega.

_**Vancouver, Earth - Tali'Zorah**_

_**May 15th, 2169**_

"... and because, ultimately, the geth still represent a great threat to the League, I believe that we must reclaim the ancestral home of my people, to take hold of our heritage. Living on Earth is good and I love my human family, but one day the quarians must take back their true home."

Tali lowered her paper, finally able to look at her class. They clapped politely, most of them looking bored. Kelly cheered and clapped loudly, grinning broadly at her friend. One other quarian, Ven'Orra, clapped loudly as well. Tali knew his family supported retaking Rannoch just as much as Tali did.

"Very good Tali," her teacher smiled, applauding a bit more enthusiastically than most of the students. Mr. Paragon was a pretty cool teacher, and he always supported Tali even when she was nervous about getting up and doing a presentation. "Does anyone have any questions for Tali?"

One of the human students, Ricky Venezuela, raised his hand and Tali nervously pointed at him.

"Like, why do you think getting back Rannoch is so important? I mean, I know your biology is right for it and all, but isn't that what the point of that medicine stuff is? In a few years, you won't need to wear that suit at all, right?"

"That's not the point, bosh'tet!" Ven growled.

"Hmmm, I didn't realize Tali was sitting in Ven's seat today," Mr. Paragon mildly interjected, and Ven jerked slightly and lowered his blazing eyes.

"That's true," Tali admitted, trying to collect her thoughts. "But that's not the point. How would you feel if Earth was taken away? Even if you didn't live on Earth and could go live on Terra Nova or Tuchanka, would you really like knowing your race's homeworld was in someone else's hands?"

"No," Ricky admitted. "That's a good point."

Another human, Heidi Wertz, raised her hand, and Tali pointed to her. "But like, wouldn't we have to fight the geth? We've already got the Council breathing down our necks. Why pick another fight? Wouldn't the Council like, stab us in the back or something?"

Tali nodded. "That's true. But what if we got into a fight with the Council? Don't you think the geth might stab us in the back then?"

Heidi frowned. "But the geth are like, hermits or something. Wouldn't it be weird if the geth like, attacked now?"

"It's likely that the geth are simply waiting for the best opportunity. They know that if they attacked us now they'd be destroyed, but if they wait until we're weakened they could succeed," Tali answered by reflex. That was something dad had drilled into her pretty hard.

"I would like to remind the class that 'like' is neither an article, a conjunction nor a preposition," Mr. Paragon put in, looking pointedly at Heidi and Ricky. "Any further questions?"

No one else had any more questions, so Tali took her seat beside Kelly.

"That was awesome! You totes nailed it!" Kelly whispered enthusiastically.

Tali smiled nervously, glancing up at the teacher. Kelly's ideas of whispering was what most people would have considered a normal speaking voice. "Thanks."

A few more classmates did their presentations on the galaxy's various races, including a rather esoteric presentation by Kelly on why she thought that vorcha were "huggable."

The lunch bell rang, and the rest of the class scrambled to grab their lunch bags and go, including Kelly. "See you after school!" Kelly called as she ran out the door. Tali waved and continued to carefully put the rest of her school supplies away; she was always the last one out the door.

"I enjoyed your presentation today, Tali," Mr. Paragon said as she headed out. "I have to wonder though, how much of it did you write, and how much of it did your father write?"

That got Tali to flush angrily behind her mask. "I wrote it, sir."

"Oh, I know that," Mr. Paragon assured her, "I'm not accusing you of plagiarism. I'm just wondering how much original thought came from that. Your dad is a bit... vehement, when it comes to Rannoch."

"I agree with my fathers, living and dead," Tali answered, struggling to not snap at her teacher. "Captain Rael'Zorah was one of the last of the quarian people to remember our homeworld. Too many have forgotten it. And Philip Sheridan is one of the few humans who remember the homeless state of the quarian people."

"Alright, alright. I'm not trying to accuse you of anything Tali. It's just that your papers tend to focus on one of two things. Either technology, or retaking Rannoch. While it's good you have strong convictions, I'd like to see you branch out a bit. This is a writing course, and I want to see more samples of your writing than just political pieces or technical jargon I have to call your robotics teacher to decipher. OK?"

Forcing herself to be calm, Tali nodded "Yes sir."

"Good. Get to lunch, I hear they've got dextro pizza today," Mr. Paragon smiled, waving Tali out the door.

Tali hurried through the crowded halls of Jason Lee Middle School, half running to make it to her destination. She was never late; a daughter of Rael'Zorah could never be late. When she finally arrived at Robotics Club, she sighed in relief. She wasn't late, not quite anyway. She waved to her friends and set her backpack down, activating her omni-tool to work on her latest drone. She'd decided to name it Chatika, after the ship her father had served on early in his navel career. Her quarian father.

As Tali worked, she thought about what Mr. Paragon had said. It was true, her stance on the geth and Rannoch was copied from both her fathers, though she half suspected that her human father was emulating her quarian father for some reason. Most quarians, let alone most humans, seemed to have completely forgotten about Rannoch or the geth. Instead, most of them were focused on their lives in the present, and on the looming threat of the Citadel. As far as Tali was concerned, the real threat was synthetics like the geth, not the alien Council. Sure turians or asari were bosh'tets, but at least you could negotiate with them. The same could not be said of a geth.

Right now, Tali was working very hard to become an expert on AIs and on combat engineering. She may be only 12, but she was making progress. Already she was the best engineer in the entire school. Including the Robotics club mentor, Mrs. Berkowitz, who had a degree in electrical engineering. But that wasn't enough to earn what Tali truly sought; the approval of her fathers. Sure, one was dead and Tali could never really prove herself to him, but it didn't help that her human one was always comparing her to him. Sometimes it felt like she could never measure up to the genius, bravery, and vision that had been Rael'Zorah.

She would keep trying though. Tali bent back over her drone, modifying the base program so that it could help her with homework. She would prove herself as worthy of the Zorah name, and carry on her birth father's legacy. One day, Tali vowed, she would lead her people back to Rannoch.

_Of course, Tali was right. She would lead her people back to Rannoch. But the fashion of their arrival was one she couldn't fathom in her brightest dreams or deepest nightmares. _

_The only thing she got right was who would be at her side. _

_**Narkesh, Anhur - Thane Krios**_

_**July 15th, 2169**_

_A soft, small hand reaches up to me. I take it in my hands. I can feel the beat of his heart. My son. I turn and smile. Irikah's face is weary, but she smiles at me with her amber eyes. "Your son. Kolyat."_

Thane blinked, coming out of the memory. If he were asari or turian, it would have been the equivalent of putting away pictures. Drell had a flawless eidetic memory, meaning they could relive the past at will, as if they were once again there. The birth of his son was one of Thane's favorite memories, and it was one he frequently brought up. No matter how many times he relived that particular scene, he never tired of it. Kolyat was older now, nearly nine. Thane missed too much of his son's life, but such was the life of a traveling assassin.

He checked his watch. It was time. Thane stood, drawing his tattered cloak about himself as he shuffled off down the path, stumbling slightly as he went. He looked the part of a beaten and battered slave, perfect for this assignment. He continued past real slaves, poor misbegotten souls from a dozen races. Thane whispered silent prayers for them. Perhaps his actions here would better their lot. He approached an opulent house, more of a mansion really, set amid the ramshackle huts and squalor of the slave hovels. That was where his target was.

Thane spied the ground car in front of the mansion, and nodded. His information had been correct. Gred Hunlar was the leader of a notorious batarian slaver ring. Today, Thane would put an end to his particular breed of sentient rights violations.

The car approached, and Thane drew to the side, feigning a cough into his cloak so he could draw out his sticky bomb. He sensed someone approaching, and kept the bomb concealed within the cloak as a human wrapped in a cloak nearly as dingy as Thanes own hobbled by.

"If you want to goddamn live, you'll find somewhere else to be and forget you every laid goddamn eyes on me, bosh'tet," the human muttered.

Thane started, and glanced up sharply, quickly looking around. The human had a massive scar over one eye, not something unusual for a slave, but he didn't move right. He was shuffling, but it was a controlled, precise shuffle. And Thane spied an N7 logo on a gun underneath the cloak. So. Another assassin.

"Perhaps we do not work at cross purposes," Thane murmured. "Are you here to slay Gred Hunlar?"

The human jerked and fixed his eye on Thane. "Goddamn bosh'tet, you're not a slave!"

"And you are an N7,"Thane mused.

The human pointed his gun at Thane, keeping it hidden from prying eyes with his cloak. "Goddamn it, who are you?"

"I am Thane Krios, an agent of the Primacy," Thane replied.

"Lieutenant, Flavus, you catch that?" the human growled. "It's turning into a goddamn party down here."

Curious. Flavus was a turian name. The name of a certain turian Spectre, if Thane's guess was right. What would a human N7 be doing working with a turian Spectre?

The scarred man listened for a moment, then nodded. "Right. The metalhead's heard of you. Patch in to Citadel comm channel Alpha-Whisky 0-8-390."

After a moment, Thane connected his communicator to the channel the human had specified. "This is Thane Krios."

"Sere Krios. Fancy seeing you here," a turian voice said over the link. "I didn't realize Kahje had an interest in this slaver ring."

"Spectre Vakarian. Amonkira has led us to the same quarry," Thane observed.

The link was silent for a moment, then the soft buzz of a turian's amusement filtered to Thane. "Well, I see my secret has been found out. I trust you will be discreet in this matter?"

"My masters are concerned only with the accomplishment of my mission. Not how I choose to accomplish it," Thane replied.

"Fair enough. You're on point then. Massani will back you up. You clean up anything else that comes out of that ground car. We're after some items of interest in the scum's house. Any problems with that?"

"Negative. I was sent to reap this harvest, not to retrieve any data."

Suddenly, Thane found a gun pressed into his belly. "What did you say?" the human, Massani, snarled. "Goddamn it, I think we have a mole!"

"Stand down Chief!" a new voice ordered over the channel, a quarian voice. "It's a drell expression. I don't think it had anything to do with the mission."

Thane bowed his head. "I meant no offense. Only that I am here to kill, not to take anything."

"Acknowledged Reegar," the human growled. "You better be on the level, drell. Focus up, they're coming."

Gred's car pulled forward, and Thane turned his back, motioning for the human to do the same. "I shall use my biotics to attach a sticky bomb to disable the vehicle, then I will ensure Gred is eliminated. Cover me."

"Works for me. You pull something funny, and I'll put a goddamn round in your bosh'tet skull."

Just before Gred's car passed his location Thane turned and hurled a sticky bomb underneath the armored car, using his biotics lift it onto the vulnerable undercarriage. He raised a barrier to protect himself and the human, then dropped it as soon as the shockwave passed. He sprang forward, smashing the damaged window with a heavy biotic blow. Gred and his bodyguards were shaken, but alive. Once Thane put a few rounds in each of them, that was no longer the case.

"We must go," he called to the human as he turned and ran from the scene.

"This way!" Massani shouted, leading Thane through the warren of slave huts. They ran for several minutes before ducking into a hut that looked much the same as all the others. The human pulled open a trap door and dropped down inside. Thane followed, finding himself in a dim, narrow hole.

"That was a hell of a show you put on," the human growled. "Made it easy for our team. The others got in and got the device out with no problems."

Thane didn't ask about the nature of the human's objective, instead sitting cross-legged and murmured prayers for his victims.

Sometime later, the human tapped him on the shoulder. "Hey, wake up. The metalhead wants to talk with you."

Thane opened his eyes to find Flavus Vakarian down on one kneed beside him. "Sere Krios."

"Spectre. I assume you wish to see me for more than expressing your thanks."

The turian's mandibles twitched slightly, probably in amusement, Thane guessed. "That is correct. I want to know if you've ever run across anything like this," he brought up a hologram of a silvery sphere hovering over a dish of some sort.

Thane studied the image for a moment, then shook his head. "I have never seen anything like it."

The turian grunted. "Good. If you do, alert the Council immediately. Code word Harvest. That's why Chief Massani was upset by your particular turn of phrase."

Thane nodded. "I shall do so."

"Good. Oh, and one other thing. Some of Gred's henchmen got a good look at you and Massani. Our sniper took them out for you. Watch yourself Sere Krios. You're getting sloppy in your old age."

That surprised Thane, he hadn't seen any guards that could have survived that might have seen him. "I am grateful." Thane would never really know just how grateful he was. Or how much Amonkira had altered his path that day.

Flavus nodded. "Pleasure working with you. Perhaps I'll see you again someday."

"If Arashu wills it, Spectre. I owe you a debt. Perhaps one day, Arashu will allow me to repay it."

_**The Citadel - Flavus Vakarian**_

_**July 29th, 2169**_

"You're certain?" Sepias demanded, her mandibles lowering slightly in dismay.

"Completely," Falvus stated. "The artifact was Reaper in origin."

Valern blinked rapidly, shaking his head. "You should have brought it back for study instead of destroying it."

"Ha!" Aethyta's laughter was harsh. "That's why he did destroy it. Reaper crap isn't to be studied. It's to be obliterated."

"A valid point. Forgive me, I am not used to the idea of intel being so toxic it cannot be studied at all," Valern conceded.

Sapias shook her head. "We can study it, but not directly. The intel the asari have provided us on this has been very clear. Artifacts left by the Reapers contaminate. Sometimes it takes years, sometimes it takes months, and sometimes it seems to have only taken a few days. With contamination taking place so quickly, there is no amount of time I'd be willing to risk my people's exposure."

"Yes. Still, I wish we could study this phenomena somehow," Valern mused. "It's hard to guard against something you don't understand, or even know how to identify."

"It would be worse if someone was Indoctrinated without our realizing it through our own experiments," Aethyta cautioned. "We've kept an eye on anyone with any exposure to Reaper tech, but so far no one has exhibited any major changes in behavior."

Flavus' mandibles twitched slightly. "That doesn't really mean anything, not when we don't know what we are looking for. But those of us on the task force have done our best to keep things quiet, and limit contact. We've informed you of everyone we've involved in any Reaper related operations."

Except, of course, the fact that several League specialists had been involved, namely Berr'Reegar and David Anderson's N7 unit. Anderson was keeping his own bosses equally in the dark. For now, that was the best way to play this. In fact, not even the whole Reaper task force was aware of the League's aid. Saren was being kept out of the loop; his hatred and mistrust of League races was well known. While Flavus did trust his friend, he also knew that there were certain things Saren didn't need to know.

"This Thane Krios intrigues me," Valern put in. "I've heard of him before. He's a master at his craft. If you were to bring him in on the occasional mission, I'm sure we could persuade the Primacy to loan him to us. In fact, it might even be worth it to grant him Spectre status."

"While I agree Thane has the skill set necessary for a Spectre, I doubt he would thank you if you gave him Spectre status. Thane's skill set works best in the shadows, and being a Spectre would be far too public for him," Flavus cautioned.

"I'll defer to your judgment in the matter, Spectre Vakarian," Valern agreed.

Aethyta nodded. "Anything further to report, Spectre Vakarian?"

"No ma'am."

"Very well, you are dismissed then," Sapias waved.

Falvus saluted and turned about, heading back to his place on the wall. He would keep watch, not just for the Council, but for his family. He would leave the galaxy a better place than he had found it.

_**Omega, Afterlife - Tevos**_

_**September 7th, 2169**_

Yawning, Tevos rubbed her eyes and made a final adjustment to her document, then signed off. They were nearly ready. All the warlords in this sector had finally been united under the flag of Omega. Tevos' flag. The asari's flag. The last holdouts had been exterminated or forced to yield and join. A large part of that had been thanks to Tevos' new chief agent, one Miri Goldstein. While she had known that the human was talented, she wasn't prepared for just how ruthless, driven, and most surprisingly of all, loyal the young girl was.

When Miri had been given the opportunity to topple Tevos, expose her entire plan to the League or even just seize power and wealth for herself, the girl had instead stayed loyal. She'd ensured that Tevos' position was stronger than ever by turning in Aria T'loak and her flunkies. Now Aria was firmly under Tevos' thumb. And best of all, Tevos was now a father.

The child had been born last month, a healthy girl, and the most beautiful Tevos had seen since her own daughter was born. Liselle was a successful business woman now, and Tevos didn't have time to see her much. That was somewhat normal for an asari in her own matron stage, but still. Tevos hoped that perhaps she would see more of little Nerri's life as she grew, even if she was the father, not the mother.

Just as she was about to get up, a blinding headache hit Tevos, and she slumped in her chair, rubbing her brow. She reached out a hand and rested it on the Sphere Aria had given her as a gift, drawing strength and comfort from the Sphere. The Sphere was her most precious possession, and one she kept safely locked away when she wasn't alone in her office. No one could see it, no one could know she had it.

"My precious," Tevos whispered, gazing at her reflection. It was so beautiful. So wonderful. Tevos treasured the sphere more than anything. It was perfect.

_soon, soon you shall be ready_

Tevos ignored the voice. It was so soothing, like the voice of her mother, but it was quiet, normal. She could hear the voice even when she wasn't in contact with the Sphere now. She was glad. She wanted to carry the voice with her everywhere.

_lie ready, when the time comes, you will know what to do your daughter shall receive her perfection_

Tevos nodded happily. Perhaps she should let Nerri play with the Sphere some time. That sounded like a wonderful idea.

_leave us here allow our influence to spread it is slow oh so slowly but it spreads_

No, better not. Nerri could break the sphere! Tevos loved herbut she didn't want Nerri to break the precious Sphere.

With a final soft touch, Tevos stood and took the elevator to her quarters a few floors down. She shared them with Aria and Nerri of course. They were much more opulent than Tevos' office. More to Aria's tastes, but that was alright.

"Bondmate," Aria murmured when Tevos arrived. She'd mellowed considerably since giving birth to their daughter. Or had it been when she gave Tevos the sphere? She couldn't remember. "How was your day?"

"Good, good, things have gone according to plan. When the time comes, we will strike a blow that shall crippled the League, and give your daughter a future," Tevos said, hugging Aria tightly. "I love you, Aria. You and Nerri both. It's a shame how much pain was necessary to bring that out, but you are happy now, aren't you?"

A haunted look seemed to flicker over Aria's face, but that might have been Tevos' imagination. "Of course. We're very happy together."

_you are happy together you are content you wish to join together in perfect harmony forever and receive perfection_

"Yes, we are happy, together forever," Tevos sighed.

Now Aria looked slightly concerned. "Tevos?"

She just smiled. "Together forever. That's the Cycle of life, isn't it?"

"Cycle?" Aria now looked downright suspicious. "I've heard that before. From Bray."

_bray is to be trusted he is a servant_

"Bray is to be trusted, he is our servant," Tevos laughed.

"Right, of course," Aria agreed, sounding half-way hesitant. "Just a servant. "

Tevos played with Nerri for a few minutes before bedtime. She really must give Nerri the Sphere to play with sometime. It would ensure her future.

_Authors Note: _

_Next up, Jak: Rage of a World. Chapter to be posted in four days time ;) _

_In a similar vein, I've actually finished Meek! Huzzah! What does that mean? Well, it means that I am now starting on "The Heavens Shall Tremble," the sequel to Meek which will take place in 2183 on a world called Eden Prime. It won't be going up until Meek is finished, and I'm going to be giving my beta a break. Expect to see Heavens about a month after Meek finishes (though there will be several "bonus chapters" posted to Meek in the meantime, probably until Heavens starts sometime in October) I've also started my last semester of student teaching, which means I am going to be VERY busy for the next few months (yes, my school district comes back in July). As long as my beta can keep editing though, I've got plenty of chapters written out ahead of time._

_I also want to take another opportunity to thank all my readers. Meek has just recently hit the 1900 review mark, and is currently one of the top Mass Effect stories. I can't begin to express how much that means to me as an author to be so appreciated by you guys. So in return, I want to appreciate you a bit. You guys rock. I especially appreciate those of you who take the times to give me thoughtful feed back, that really does help this story improve and helps me improve as a writer. So if you see things you like, or things you don't like, let me know! I won't promise it will change, but I will promise that I will listen. _


	30. Chapter 30

_When the Himalayan peasant meets the he-bear in his pride,  
He shouts to scare the monster, who will often turn aside.  
But the she-bear thus accosted rends the peasant tooth and nail.  
For the female of the species is more deadly than the male._

_She who faces Death by torture for each life beneath her breast  
May not deal in doubt or pity—must not swerve for fact or jest.  
These be purely male diversions—not in these her honour dwells—  
She the Other Law we live by, is that Law and nothing else._

_Unprovoked and awful charges—even so the she-bear fights,  
Speech that drips, corrodes, and poisons—even so the cobra bites,  
Scientific vivisection of one nerve till it is raw  
And the victim writhes in anguish—like the Jesuit with the squaw!_

_And Man knows it! Knows, moreover, that the Woman that God gave him  
Must command but may not govern—shall enthral but not enslave him.  
And She knows, because She warns him, and Her instincts never fail,  
That the Female of Her Species is more deadly than the Male._

—_Rudyard Kipling, The Female of the Species (selected)_

_**Jump Zero - Jak of Tuchanka**_

_**February 19th, 2170**_

In most things, Jak was confidant, assertive, and took the lead. She considered herself to be a good leader. She was strong physically, mentally and biotically, and skilled with weapons. People respected her and did what she told them, not because of her status as eldest daughter of Overlord Da and Shaman Ma, but because she was who she was.

So why did talking to one particular human boy make her legs feel weak and turn her bowels to liquid? It was stupid! Johnny was younger than she was, though he was very handsome, strong, and he even liked her poetry. They were friends, dammit! It wasn't like she was old enough to negotiate a mating contract with him!

Yet.

Today though, she was going to try to change that. Jak took a deep breath and knocked on the Dragon Team's common room portal. To her relief, one of Johnny's kith and kin opened the door.

"Hey Jak, what's up?" Gola'Zorah asked when the portal dilated open.

Maintaining outward composure, Jak intoned, "I must speak with General Shepard."

Gola's eyes glowed a bit brighter. "Finally asking him on that date huh? Oh my Ancestors, just let me get pics when you do. He's so oblivious to your crush it's hilarious! Be right back!"

Fighting to keep her face from reddening, Jak fought down panic. Was her attraction to Johnny so obvious to everyone? Well, that was alright. He was a fine specimen of a human male. And he was sensitive too. Ma said that was very important in a male. He was also very handsome. Jak thought that was important.

"Heh, heh, heh. She got you there, little one," Charr chuckled from behind Jak.

Resisting the urge to turn and glare at her bodyguard and mentor, Jak just sniffed. It was a human affectation, but she thought it conveyed distain rather well.

After a moment, Johnny appeared at the door. "Hey Jak, Gola said you needed to talk to me about something."

In the background, Gola had her omnitool up and was pointing it at them. Well, let her. This would record Jak's claim to Johnny. She knew he was popular with the other females, especially the human and quarian ones, though more than a few other krogan found him attractive as well. That was only to be expected, he was the strongest and most capable male on the station, aside from possibly one or two of the adult instructors.

"Johnny Shepard vas Arcturus, do you acknowledge me as krantt?" Jak bellowed, as loud as she could.

Reaching up to rub the back of his head, a rather endearing trait Jak thought, Johnny nodded. "Er, yeah, but do you have to yell so loud? I'm right here."

"Then as krantt, I call you to do your duty!" Jak roared, louder this time. She may like Johnny, but that didn't mean she could let him push her around. She had to show her worth.

At the mention of the word duty, Johnny instantly assumed a posture of ridged attention. "Then as a member of your krantt, I stand by to do my duty."

"Will you face battle at my side, take my enemies as your own, in greatest peril?" Jak demanded.

"I remember my friends, and especially my krantt," Johnny answered, still at attention. "I fear no foe."

"Then you are as foolish as you are young," Charr rumbled. "The foes you would face for your krantt are terrible indeed."

"'Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil, for I am the baddest bosh'tet in it,'" Johnny answered, his face dead serious.

Charr grunted in approval, and Jak continued on. "Then as krantt, I call you to join me in my Rite, my ascension to womanhood, that I may claim my clan name and birthright as a warrior! Johnny'Shepard nar Arcturus, will you join me?"

"Wouldn't miss it for worlds," Johnny answered, giving Jak a mischievous grin. Then he sobered. "Though I don't know how my mom's gonna feel about this."

As it turned out, Hannah Shepard wasn't thrilled about her son undergoing the krogan rite alongside Jak. Jak explained to her what she knew of it, that she and her krantt would face terrible foes. Charr did reassure Hannah that humans almost never died in the rite, which Hannah then pointed out was only true because humans almost never participated in the rite. Charr admitted she had a point, and pointed out he would be there to keep her son safe. Hannah said that was very nice, but Charr could go to hell if he thought she was impressed by that.

It had come down to Johnny. "Mom, Jak's my friend. She needs me."

Hannah's image had stared at Johnny for a moment, then the Commander had nodded. "Very well, Recruit Third Class Shepard. Do you think you're up for this op?"

"Yes ma'ma, Commander Shepard," Johnny had replied, saluting crisply.

"Very well. I expect you to come back from this in one piece soldier."

"Aye-aye ma'am."

And that had been that.

Now, three days later, they were on Tuchanka. Jak had been halfway embarrassed that da had come to collect them himself with his personal ship. But as he had pointed out, she was his daughter, and it was a father's duty to ensure his child arrived at the rite in a timely manner.

Currently Jak was kneeling in ma's quarters. Fragrant incense was burning, and Jak inhaled deeply, allowing it to calm her. The ancient shaman was painting her daughter with the initiate's banding, the symbols of strength and courage that were traditional for clan Urdnot. Red for the blood of the warrior. Green for the courage to fight. Black to remember the past. Blue to represent her future.

"It is finished, child," Ma intoned, bringing Jak to her feet.

She turned, looking into the mirror. Jak had to admit, she looked like a fierce and terrible warrior. Her head was freshly shaved, and the colors of the banding seemed to glow in the soft light. She turned and hugged ma hard. "Thank you."

Ma pulled Jak closer, hugging her just as fiercely. "Today is the last day you are my little girl. When you return, you shall be both warrior and woman. Go now, my daughter."

They walked out of the chamber to where Jak's krantt was waiting. Charr was meditating, sitting in a puddle of sunlight. Johnny was checking his weapons. Jak felt a slight thrill at seeing her krantt assembled and so well armed. Johnny had a new N7-Eagle pistol along with a Rapier shotgun, two of the more potent weapons in the Alliance arsenal. Jak reached down to pat her own weapon. It was old, but she wouldn't have traded it for the world. It was her da's ancient Scimitar, one that had seen battle on a hundred fields. It was an ancient and honorable weapon, and one she was proud to wield.

Seeing Jak, Johnny strapped his weapons onto his armor and grinned at her. He had a nice grin, Jak thought. One that combined humor and resolve; the grin of a warrior. "We ready?"

"Yes, it is time," Jak confirmed. She led her party over to where her father was waiting with the vehicles. The old warrior look suspiciously like a human who was trying hard not to cry, though that was silly. Krogan couldn't cry; they lacked tear ducts.

"Who is this that comes before me?" Da demanded, his voice raspier than usual.

"A warrior and her krantt, seeking to prove her worth!" Charr rumbled. As the senior krantt member, it was his duty to plead their case.

Da nodded. "And who is this whelp, that seeks to prove herself?"

Jak stepped forward. "It is I, Jak, daughter of Bakara, daughter of Niilba, daughter of Ylor, daughter of Eruud, daughter of Ikol, who survived the Dark Days." This was one of the few times her mother's name could be spoken aloud without bringing great shame. That name had been eaten by Tuchanka, and only for the most sacred of rituals could it be spoken.

"If it is the Rite you seek, then it is the Rite you shall have. The krogan are a strong people. It is we who swore the Oath of Protection, that we might be a shield to the weak and a guardian against the darkness. We are a shield and a spear, and have no use for striplings that cannot stand with the warriors."

Thumping her chest, Jak stood as straight and tall as she could manage. It actually put her above eye level with da, though he was much more massive, the slumped shoulders of the krogan made him seem shorter than her. "I am a warrior born!" she boasted. "My armor is strong and my weapons ready. Send me into battle, that I might prove worthy of a name!"

"Shaman, do you deem this one worthy?" Da demanded, turning to Urdnot Shaman.

"She is not of the blood," the shaman mused. His line was scripted, and would have been the same even if Jak had been born krogan. "She is a foundling, one adopted into the clan. She has lived in our halls for many years and not disgraced herself. I deem her worthy. If she passes this trial, none may question her fortitude."

"Very well! Let her face the Rite!" Wrex bellowed.

Everyone climbed into the vehicles. They were new, well armored and even better armed. Protectors, the new krogan fighting vehicle. As they jostled along, krogan didn't believe in suspension, Jak felt a rising sense of nervousness. She tried to calm herself, but her breathing quickened and she felt her blood rising. Was she truly worthy? Would she disgrace her father? Would she-

A calming hand rested itself on her shoulder. "Hey, relax, we got this. Can't be tougher than the Rumble Room, right Jak?"

Jak turned and smiled a Johnny, nodding and feeling calmer already. "Of course. What horrors can we face compared to the ones the Grandmaster cooked up for us?"

"Exactly! You took down those mechs easy enough; even the new FENRIS's couldn't stand up to your biotics!" Johnny encouraged.

"Thanks," Jak murmured, then checked her weapons, as was proper for a warrior.

They finally arrived at the ancient amphitheater that housed the Rite. It was one of the areas of Tuchanka that had seen only minor repair. The air was still choked by dust, though a few small, tough plants clung here and there. Their suits were sealed and shielded against lingering radiation from the Dark Times. The danger was minor; it had been over three thousand years and most of the danger was past. Still, Jak wasn't as robust as a biological krogan, and she needed to be in top fighting form for the Rite. She knew vaguely what she could face. After all, every krogan knew what a Maw Hammer looked like.

"Be strong, and fight like a krogan!" Da encouraged as Jak and her krantt ascended the steps. She glanced back and smiled predatorily at him. Her da blinked and looked away. Still no tears, but Jak had a feeling that if he had them, he would be using them about now.

Once they reached Circle of Trials, Jak motioned her krantt forward. "Spread out and find some cover. Who knows what Tuchanka may send us? If we are lucky, perhaps she will give us a maw to face!"

"Oh joy. I always wanted to play with a thresher maw," Johnny sighed. The enormous subterranean predators had originated on Tuchanka, and spread throughout the galaxy along with the krogan. They could grow up to 100 meters in length, though only 30 of that would ever show above ground. They had claws that could sheer through even a Protector's armor, and a jaw capable of biting a small starship in half. If that wasn't enough, they also produced a powerful corrosive venom that they used to burrow through solid rock. When on the attack, a maw could hurl globules of the venom on its prey, which usually dissolved said prey into a pool of goo.

That was what the Maw Hammer was for. It sent tremors through the ground, which the fiercely territorial maw would respond to aggressively. Normal procedure for League troops was to disengage and call in heavy support, preferably from orbit. Krogan fought them on foot.

Jak approached the maw hammer and slammed the activation button. A loud voice echoed from the speakers on the amphitheater as the maw hammer rose and fell. "First the krogan conquered Tuchanka, and mastered a natural world only we were fit to hold."

BOOM. The echoes of the hammer raised a massive cloud of dust, but Jak and her krantt were looking outward, to where the threats would come from. A vicious baying arose. Jak shouted in triumph. "Varren!"

The scaled, doglike predators rushed across the plains into the semi-circle of the amphitheater. Jak held her fire, waiting until the enemy got closer so she could use her biotics and shotgun. Johnny drew his pistol and opened fire from extreme range, dropping several of the varren before they even got close. Charr just hefted his battle hammer and stepped forward. He hadn't brought his favored flamethrower for the Rite, but that was alright with the warrior. A hammer worked just fine for him.

The first group of varren came in close, and Jak yelled, "Johnny, warp my field!" and trapped the onrushing beasts in a wide singularity. Johnny responded instantly, launching a biotic sphere of destruction into Jak's field. As soon as Johnny's energy touched Jak's, her field collapsed in a massive detonation, hurling bits of steaming varren through the air. The few that got through suffered a bad case of hammer as Charr swung his enormous weapon as easily as if meter and a half long weapon were made of balsa wood.

"Clear!" Johnny shouted, panning his gun around the arena, then pointing it down at the ground.

"A good start!" Charr hooted, shouldering his hammer.

Jak turned back to the maw hammer, and once again hit the activation.

BOOOOOM. This time the report was louder, deeper, more primal. The loudspeakers spoke once again: "Then the krogan were lifted to the stars to destroy the fears of a galaxy, an enemy only we could chase to their lairs."

An eerie keening filled the air, and dark shapes lifted from enormous dirt and spittle hives on the horizon. "Klixen!" Jak rejoiced. A far more worthy and cunning foe than simple varren.

"Watch for their death throws. Their acid sacks can rupture and explode. Don't get too close!" Charr cautioned.

"I love this planet," Johnny muttered. "Why can't the krogan live in space, like proper people? All you have to worry about there is vacuum."

"Do you fear this foe, Johnny?" Jak cackled excitedly.

"Of course. Fear's what keeps you alive. That doesn't mean I won't stand my ground and kill them."

Jak didn't comment on the wisdom of that particular insight, as the flying klixen harvesters began to rain warriors bugs down up the krantt. Heeding her mentor's directive, Jak kept her distance, using her shotgun from at least 5 meters out. She brought down one of the klixen and cheered, then noticed what Johnny was doing. He'd lured a large group together, then weakened the leader's armor with a warp and fired his pistol into the acid sack. The warrior exploded, drenching its fellows in deadly fluid. It didn't kill them outright, but it did weaken their own armor. With a few more well placed shots, Johnny caused the rest of the group to explode in turn.

"Smart thinking!" Jak called to him, levitating a klixen in the air, then slamming it with a biotic push to send it cartwheeling into the distance.

"Thanks!" Johnny shouted back, shielding Charr with a powerful biotic barrier so the older warrior could charge a group of enemies and lay about with his hammer, shattering carapaces and chitchin without fear of the resulting explosions.

Jak dispatched the final foe with a bone shattering blast of biotic force, covering her faceplate as searing droplets of acid sprayed into the air. The group took a few moments to catch their breath, then Jak hit the button for the third and final time, praying to the Ancients for a maw. "As a reward for our efforts, our blood was tainted by those we saved. For centuries we stood alone. But now we have been rescued, saved by our blood brothers. We have sworn to protect them, to be living shields. In this fight, our goal is not to slay, but to save the lives of those around us."

KA-THOOOM!

The hammer dropped for a final time, causing the very ground to tremble. For a few moments, Jak held her breath. Nothing. She began to feel crest fallen, then stumbled. The earth shook again. But not from the hammer. With a roar that rent the air and caused the hearts of all who heard it to quake in fear, a massive head erupted from the dead earth as its claws slashed furiously at the heavens.

"MAW!" Jak shouted, diving for cover even as she rejoiced at her fortune.

"No!" Charr laughed. "That is not a maw."

"Then what the hell is it?" Johnny demanded as he crouched next to Jak.

"That creature's head is over 50 meters in length. That is no thresher maw," Charr explained.

"It looks like one to me!" Johnny snapped as he rose and fired at the creature, scrambling for cover as a massive ball of acid obliterated the low metal fence the group had been hiding behind.

"No Johnny," Jak laughed, feeling giddy with pleasure. "It is Kalros! Mother of all Thresher Maws! The Lady of Tuchanka herself!"

"Oh, wonderful," Johnny grumped. "It has a name. Krogan don't name anything they think they can kill. And krogan think they can kill anything."

"One cannot kill Kalros!" Charr explained. "One can only weather the storm of her wrath."

"Then why are we shooting at her?" Johnny demanded. "Won't that just make her angrier?"

Jak just laughed. "Kalros is the rage of Tuchanka given form! You cannot make her angrier, only appease her by giving her worthy battle!"

"Yay. In that case, Jak, hit my warp with a throw. Then attack the weak point for massive damage!"

"The weak point?" Jak queried as she scrambled away from the latest site of Kalros' acid bombard.

"That big red thing sticking out of her mouth!" Johnny shouted, highlighting the offending organ on Jak's HUD. "I looked up Thresher biology last night, seeing as how the Rite is about facing the damn things. Figured it couldn't hurt."

"Wise!" Jak agreed. "On you!"

Johnny hurled a terrible sphere of crackling power at Kalros. It slammed into the massive beast, and Kalros roared in pain as the destructive energies worked at her sensitive tongue. Jak launched her own attack, and her aim was true. A huge wave of blue destruction erupted, and Kalros swayed slightly, stunned by the attack. The krantt poured fire into the gaping throat, until their weapons overheated and they were forced to seek cover.

"Damn, did it work?" Johnny demanded.

His response was an even more furious bellow of rage from Kalros.

"Again!" Jak ordered.

Once more the twin bolts of destruction struck true, and this time instead of swaying, Kalros let out a final shriek, then sucked downward as she retreated. A hush fell over the ancient amphitheater. Jak peeked out from the pillar she had dived behind, waiting for Kalros to reemerge and spew further destruction at her krantt. After a minute of waiting, she raised her gun in jubilation. "We have succeeded! The lady is satisfied! This is a great omen!"

"Yeah, we're alive. That has to be worth something," Johnny agreed. "That was intense. I can see why your people are such great warriors."

Jak strutted back up steps at the head of her victorious krantt, where da was waiting. The old battlemaster was almost bouncing on the balls of his feet. As soon as Jak reached the top, he strode forward and slapped her hard on the shoulder. Then he shrugged and picked her up in a massive bear hug. "By the Oath! Kalros herself! Never before have Iborne witness to such a rite!"

Then the Overlord composed himself and nodded to Jak. "Well done, warrior. The shaman has words for you." Then da stepped to the side and hopped into the air, slamming his fists together. "Kalros!"

The old krogan shuffled forward, giving a wheezy laugh. "Perhaps my words are ancient, but they cannot mean as much as the words of a proud father. Well done, Urdnot Jak. You have earned your right to a name, and may now join the military and serve under a battlemaster, as well as own property. As a female, you may forge mating contracts, to be negotiated with a male of good standing."

"My battle master is my father. He has no equal!" Jak declared.

Da shuffled his feet and flexed his claws, a sign of deep pride and excitement. "I accept. Truly, a father could wish for nothing more in a daughter."

Tears came to Jak's own eyes. She was biologically human, and they seemed appropriate at this time. "Thanks da," she rasped.

"Well, enough of that!" Charr laughed. "Come, we must celebrate! Our clan has a new member!"

_**New Grecha, Tuckana - Urdnot Jak**_

_**February 22st, 2170**_

The party was like nothing Jak had ever seen before on Tuchanka. For one thing, there were babies everywhere, including her little sister Mordin and her dozen other siblings. They were small yet, no more than six and waist high to her. But the laughter of children was something that had not been heard in Clan Urdnot's halls for over a millennia, and they were a joy and a pleasure to have around.

Thinking of children, Jak spied Johnny over in a corner, away from the main celebrations. At first many of krogan had clustered around the famous young man, the one who had seen the start of the Second Contact War, and was now a krogan hero as well. He'd forced the spotlight back on Jak every time, crediting her leadership and poise, as well as her fighting ability. He told stories of her triumphs at Brain Camp and in the Rumble Room, describing her clever ambushes, matchless strength, and endless endurance. Jak was pretty sure she wasn't half as good as Johnny was making her out to be, but the warm buzz of ryncol in her belly made everything seem wonderful.

"Hold my ryncol," Jak grunted, shoving the drink towards Charr. The other warriors hooted and cheered as Jak strode purposefully toward Johnny, already guessing her intentions.

The object of her attention and affection looked up as Jak approached and smiled at her. "Ah, the heroine of the hour! How ya feeling, Jak?"

In response, Jak grabbed Johnny's head in both hands and kissed him fiercely. She wasn't quite sure what she was doing; krogan didn't kiss and Jak hadn't ever kissed anyone before, but she'd watched enough romance vids to have a general idea of what she was about. After a moment she released Johnny, who looked at her slightly slack jawed and cross-eyed.

"You are not yet a true warrior, nor are you ready to negotiate mating contracts," Jak stated. "But when you are, Johnny Shepard nar Arcturus, know that I claim you."

"Duuuuhhhh," was all Johnny managed, then he shook himself. "Wait, are you asking me out or something?"

"Not yet, but I will permit you to kiss me again," Jak stated.

"Well OK then," Johnny agreed after a moment.

Neither of them had much practice at kissing as it turned out, but by the end of the night, Jak was pretty sure they were getting the hang of things.

_Authors Note:_

_Dear Talimancers,_

_Please put away the pitchforks. Johnny is 16. Jak is 16. Tali, on the other hand, is 14. Give it time. Thank you._

_Sincerely, Full-Paragon_

_On another note, this chapter is more or less the shade of things to come. We're going to have five more character chapters, then go straight into the First Pan-Galactic War. _


	31. Chapter 31

"_Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage."  
― Lao Tzu_

_**Omega - Miri Goldstein**_

_**December 25th, 2170**_

"Merry Christmas Miri!" a cheerful voice squealed, and Miri sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She glanced at the clock. Six AM, Zulu time. The time she'd told Ori on the dot.

"Merry Christmas, Ori," Miri yawned, stretching and getting out of bed.

A tall, thin shape filled Miri's doorway, and she smiled. "Merry Christmas to you too, Doc."

"Merry Christmas," Doc replied.

Miri frowned and jumped out of bed, coming over to inspect the old salarian. He sounded tired. He looked thin, worn out. That was normal, he looked the way all the time. But he was yawning. Mordin only slept for an hour a day. Well, seventy five minutes lately. How could he be tired so late in the day for a salarian?

"Are you quite alright, Doctor?" Miri asked softly, hiding her concern from Ori with a hug.

"Yes, yes. Just worn out," the Doctor answered, giving Miri a smile. "Glad you made it home for Christmas. Was worried, missions can run long. Ori would have been disappointed."

"And you?" Miri teased, wrapping her robe about her and moving into the central chamber where the holographic Christmas tree stood.

"Would have missed you also," the Doctor admitted. Then he continued, sotto voice so only Miri could hear, "likely last Christmas."

"Doc..." Miri began, but the old salarian raised his hands in a calming gesture.

"Thirty nine now. Salarian lifespan 38-41. Have led good life. Proud of you. Proud of Ori. Good scientists and agents, both of you. Worry about ethics of working for Tevos, but trust you. Know you understand where to draw the line. Believe you have bright future. Ori bright, good doctor. Sad can't train her more, but for child, very talented. One day, will be top physician."

Tears sprang to Miri's eyes. "Well, at least we have today."

"Yes," Mordin nodded. "We have today."

**The Clinic, Omega - Miri Goldstein**

**March 30th, 2171**

She'd spent so much time here. Learned so much. Learned everything there was to know about salarian physiology. How to recognize their various diseases and disorders, and how to treat them. She'd saved hundreds of salarian lives, working side by side with the Doctor. Her mentor. Her friend. Her true father, in so many ways.

And because of all that training and experience, Miri recognized when there was no hope. When her patient was dying, and it would only be a waste of resources to keep trying. Still...

"Miri? Are you sure?" Ori whispered from beside her. Tears streaking the exhausted quarian's face as the girl peered at the sleeping salarian on the bed.

Miri's own eyes leaked, and she knelt to wipe away some of Ori's tears with her handkerchief. "Yes Ori. I'm sorry. He's old, and tired. He might wake up again, might even hold on for a few more days. I'm doing everything I can to help him. So are you. You may only be nine, but you're a good nurse. You know the symptoms."

Ori's lower lip trembled, and then she buried her face in Miri's welcoming arms. "But he's the Doctor! He can't leave us!"

"Shhhh, it's alright sis. He's lived a good life. He's proud of you. He knows you'll make a great doctor someday, just like him."

Ori continued to sob, and Miri let her own tears flow freely. She had known this day was coming, even before Christmas when the Doctor could no longer hide the signs of strain and age. Having it finally arrive didn't make anything easier. For the first time ever, she'd turned down an assignment from Tevos to be here, now, at the end. Tevos had been far more upset than Miri had anticipated, but she'd relented eventually. Her mistress had been acting rather odd lately, though Miri couldn't place exactly why that was. She didn't spend much time with Tevos, she was always down on the lower levels in the clinic, or out on a mission.

"Children?" the Doctor whispered, hold out a trembling hand. Miri and Ori both stood and placed their own hands on the Doctor's.

"We're here, Doc," Ori sniffled.

The old salarian smiled. "Good, good. Glad to see you. Know you will do well. Both of you. Take care of clinic, mind power struggles. Some likely to try to seize power with me gone. Several have been making noises. Didn't have strength to put them down. Not worried, leave that to you. Trust you. Both of you."

"Thanks Doc," Miri whispered. "We love you. We have ever since our first Christmas. Maybe even longer."

Ori nodded fiercely, too emotional to speak.

"Love. Never had biological children. Still, had you two. Very good. Love you too. Goodbye."

With that, the Doctor's eyes closed for the last time. Miranda shut her eyes, trying to drown out the warning tones of the monitors. She didn't try to resuscitate. They'd had their goodbyes. The tone stopped, and Miri opened her eyes to find Ori disconnecting the equipment and preparing the body for cremation, as was traditional for a salarian. She looked up at Miri, her eyes still filled with tears, though the flow was staunched for now by duty. "He said he wanted me to be a doctor, just like him. So I'm gonna do the doctor stuff. Ok?"

Miri nodded, covering her own mouth to hide a smile she felt wouldn't be appropriate. "I think he'd like that, Ori."

Later that evening, once Ori had finally fallen off to sleep, Miri went to see Tevos. Her mistress was still in her office, cradling a strange orb of all things. Miri hadn't seen it before, but Tevos was handling it like it was made of pure eezo, or was some sort of precious childhood artifact. When Miri approached, Tevos set the sphere back in a strange silver holder, where it levitated silently. Odd.

"I am sorry for your loss, Agent Goldstein," Tevos formally stated.

Miri nodded. "Yes, thank you. We knew it was coming, but still, it's hard. I loved Doc like a father. A real one."

"Would you like to hold my sphere? It always makes me feel better. It's homeopathic, from Thessia," Tevos offered gesturing to the sphere.

Doing her best not to show her distaste at such superstitious nonsense, Miri shook her head. "No thank you. I've a request to make. I want to cash in whatever goodwill I've generated."

"Well, that's quite a bit," Tevos laughed. "What did you have in mind?"

Miri's mouth dried slightly, but she pressed on. "I need a home for Ori. A safe one, off of Omega. I'd like to see her placed at the Matriarch Dilinaga Academy in Reldona on Thessia. They have a rather more cosmopolitan staff than most asari schools. They even employ a human teacher."

"That's a rather tall order," Tevos mused. "It would be somewhat difficult to get a quarian properly emigrated to Thessia. Would you require papers for yourself?"

"A travel visa only. I won't have much time to visit Ori, not with the work schedule you've got set up for me. I just want to know she's safe."

Tevos nodded. "Well, that's certainly the least I can do for the woman who's saved my live and proven her loyalty beyond a shadow of a doubt. I'll make the arrangements. I'm sure I can find a good caretaker for Ori."

"Thank you, Mistress. I am grateful."

"It is nothing more than my duty. I shall see to the arrangements shortly. Good day, Miri."

_**Reldona, Thessia - Ori'Belka nar Hong Kong**_

_**April 2nd, 2171**_

Ori was scared. She was also trying very hard to be brave. That was hard; she wasn't very good at being brave, at least she didn't think so. She hadn't been brave when the Doctor died. She had been very sad. She was still sad really. Sissy said she was going to be sad for a long time, but that it was OK. Miri was sad; she said so. If Miri said something, it was true. Even when Miri said that Ori had to go away for a while.

"I'm going to be gone, Ori," Sissy had said. "I've got work to do, you know that. And it's not safe for you here on Omega anymore. Not with the Doctor dead. I'm sending you somewhere safe. I'll visit as often as I can, and write whenever I have the opportunity. I'm sorry, Ori. If you were older, I would try to bring you with me. But you're not, and I can't. Can you forgive me?"

"Yes Miri," Ori had said, trying hard not to cry and failing miserably. "I forgive you."

And so now she was walking down the boarding ramp, her few worldly possessions in her back pack and her stuffed varren she'd gotten for Christmas this year clutched tightly in her arm. She would be brave, like Miri. She even had on her suit right now. Ori didn't like the suit very much, but it would take her body a few days to fully adjust to the atmosphere of Thessia. Best to be safe, Sissy had said.

At the end of the ramp, a big man was waiting. With him was another little girl, but she was blue. The man matched the picture Ori had been given, so she walked up to him.

"Ori'Belkar nar Ideena?" the man asked, bending down so he was eye level with Ori.

She nodded, hiding her face in Mr. Piddles.

"I'm David Goodman. This is my daughter, Citti. She's going to be in your class at school."

"Hi," Citti murmured, peeking out from behind the human's leg.

Ori raised her glowing eyes from Mr. Piddles back. "Hi."

"You're going to be staying with us for a while Ori. Come on, let's head back to the car. My wife, Delanna, is waiting back home. Tomorrow, I'll take you to school and show you around, OK?"

Ori nodded. "OK."

Ori took the big man's hand reluctantly. He wasn't a stranger, not quite, Miri had talked to him and said he was nice. So had Ms. Tevos, apparently she knew Mr. Goodman's wife somehow. Ori wasn't quite sure how it all had happened, but Miri had taken care of it, so it must be OK.

That night, once Delanna had tucked her into bed, Ori stuffed Mr. Piddles under the blankets and pulled out the envelop Miri had given her before she left. Inside was a small OSD, which Ori put into her suit to play. A holo of Miri flicked to life on her suit's mask.

"Hello Ori. Right now, it's probably bed time for you. I know you're lonely. I was when I was a little girl. Mr. and Mrs. Goodman seem very nice, and they were more than happy to take you in. They even have a little girl your age. I hope you become good friends. Still, I'm going to miss you terribly. So I've recorded one of my favorite books for you, to help you go to sleep."

Miri cleared her throat, then started again in the Very Special reading voice she used when it was story time. "In the Great Green room, there was a telephone, and a red balloon..."

As her big sister read to her, Ori slowly drifted off to sleep. She knew she would be warm and safe here. And hopefully soon, Sissy would come to read to her For Real.

_**The Temple of Athame - Liara T'soni**_

_**June 2nd, 2171**_

"-and because of this, it appears that the League's political structure is ever shifting. So far it's proven stable. It's not a true Republic, not like we have here on Thessia. But their parliamentary democracy seems to be working well enough for them."

Liara looked up at Vendetta with hungry eyes, hoping her answer had satisfied the AI. He was becoming far more grudging with his answers in recent months. But there was still so much to ask. So much Liara still had to know! She must know, must find all the answers.

The AI's image was still, then it nodded. A gesture it seemed to mimic from Liara. "Very good. This form of government is similar to others in my data banks. You have served me well, Doctor T'soni. Soon, I think it will be time."

"Time for what?" Liara asked, then mentally kicked herself. Vendetta could decided the oddest things qualified as her questions, and there were no take backs.

"Time to reveal myself to your people. Not quite yet, I think. From what you have told me, they are rather hostile to the concept of an AI. That is good. My own people paid their price in the metacon wars."

That was all information Liara already had, she'd asked about the prothean's use of AI before. Really, Vendetta wasn't a true AI, but rather a synthetic representation of the memories and personality of a prothean named Pashek Vran.

"So what do you require of me?" Liara was always anxious to get her next answer, especially when she could sense she was close to getting a new one.

"For now, nothing. I must take time to process all of the data I have been given. It is clear to me that soon, the Reaper's shall return. This Cycle is well prepared for them, but it is fractious. We must find a way to unite the disparate races, somehow. If your people destroy themselves in a useless war with this Independent League, all will have been for nothing."

Liara nodded her agreement. The things she had learned about the Protheans had been shocking. They been an Empire, more similar to the turians than any other civilization. Highly militaristic, they had gone about subjugating less advanced races, similar in practice to the turian's client races. However, Vendetta had also been frank: advanced as prothean tech was, it had not been able to stop the Reapers. To Liara's shock, Vendetta had remarked that several of the new Citadel and League technologies were more advanced than anything the Protheans had ever dreamed of.

To the best of Vendetta's knowledge, the Protheans had never finished unlocking the secrets of the Mass Relays. From the data Vendetta had received, it also declared that its own cycle was slowly being surpassed in other ways: how fast ships were, the power of eezo drive core, the strength of weapons, and other small things.

"There is little I can provide that your Cycle has not already unlocked when it comes to making war," Vendetta had commented. "I had expected you to be far more primitive. I am pleased that the reverse is true."

Finally, Liara cleared her throat. "Vendetta, how do you think we can beat the Reapers? The prothean Empire was larger than the League and Citadel combined. Your forces were larger, and more wide spread. How can we compete?"

"You have not yet earned a question," the AI responded, and Liara started to deflate. "But I shall answer anyway. Finally, you are asking the right questions. It has taken me years to train you to this point. Now I see you are finally ready."

Liara perked up, wondering just what Vendetta meant. "Before, your questions were frivolous. What was our art, what was our culture, what gods did we worship, how did we organize our government. True, they are important to a society in the frame of mind of peace, but when annihilation crouches at your door step, art is useless. The gods do not answer. And your government will fall.

"There are several advantages this Cycle has. First, you know the Reapers are coming. We did not. Our size only delayed the inevitable, and our forces were diluted. Once the main fleet was destroyed, it was only a matter of time before the Empire fell. You are more concentrated, yet your military is actually larger than the prothean fleet. Individual you are smaller, but League and Citadel together may stand a chance. If you could put aside your differences."

"You expect me to manage that? How?" Liara asked. "I'm just one woman after all."

"As I have said, I know not," Vendetta repeated.

That disturbed Liara. She was an academic, not a warrior or a diplomat. True, she had powerful biotics, and she had been on the University's pistol team and had been an excellent shot. But that didn't mean much compared to the power of the Reapers that Vendetta described.

"Do you think I should give this information to others?" Liara pondered. "At least my superiors. And possibly to the League as well."

"Not yet," Vendetta stated. "I need more time to formulate a plan, and for you to collect additional data. We still have some time, I believe. The years have been long since I first contacted you, but in my 50,000 years of waiting, I have learned patience and restraint. This plan will take long to implement. I will require further data, this time on specific individuals in the League and in your own Citadel. Find those you deem politically significant and bring me dossiers on them. I will help you narrow your search parameters as time goes on."

"I'll get my sources working on it," Liara assured the AI. "Anything further?"

"No, Dr. T'soni. Signing you out."

Liara stood and made her way out of her office, nodding to the justicars monitoring the hallways. As she had "discovered" more and more impressive things about the protheans, the degree of her freedom and independence had increased. She had to be careful to limit how much she told at any one time, rationing her information and only letting out what Vendetta approved, but even the scraps were enough to seem like enormous breakthroughs. These days, Liara was the unquestioned expert on all things prothean, and accorded the level of respect and deference such a position deserved.

Somehow, with all she had learned and the method used obtained that knowledge, that didn't make Liara feel any better. Once she had dreamed of being the top scientist in her field. Now she knew the Prothean Empire hadn't been the shining example of morality and culture she had envisioned. That it had been built on corpses, then buried in its own dead. It was a sobering, sickening thought.

Liara made her way home to the apartment she and Tyri now shared. It had been exciting to move in with the information broker, though Liara had to be careful not to let anything slip. Tyri's office was bugged more heavily than the League Embassy on Thessia, Liara imagined. She'd always turned up clean though, and Liara loved Tyri. Perhaps one day soon, they would become bondmates. Liara wasn't sure how she felt about children, growing up second generation pureblood was hard. Not to mention the risks. The justicars were always watching.

Dinner that night was a simple affair, a human recipe both lovers enjoyed called "spaghetti." It was terribly rich and full of calories, but it was very good, especially when the noodles were tossed with just a hint of Thessian Nectar to sweeten them up a bit. Liara and Tyri both had a rather large sweet tooth.

To burn off the calories, they engaged in their usual evening activities. For some reason or other, Liara found herself taking the lead tonight. Usually, she followed along with Tyri's prompts, even if she was the one to initiate the fun and games. Whether it was the stress of the day, her conversation with Vendetta, or something else, Liara didn't know. For the first time, she initiated the meld with Tyri. Instead of magnifying and sharing her own mind, she opened and explored Tyri's.

And what she saw broke Liara's heart.

It had all been lies. Everything. Tyri wasn't an information broker. She was a spy. Not a spy for the salarians or turians, which would have been bad enough, but a spy for the League. Inside Tyri's mind, Liara found her own deepest, darkest secrets. Everything about her work. All the things she thought she had kept secret from Tyri. Every scrap of knowledge about Vendetta, things she hadn't even told her superiors on the project. It was all there, in Tyri's mind.

Alongside her secrets, Liara saw that Tyri had sold her out. That everything she knew about Liara had been given to the League, right down to her favorite sexual positions. That Tyri had never really loved her. She'd used Liara. Used her like a an old and dirty sock. Used her for her own pleasure, for vindication of Tyri's hatred of the asari people for their treatment of her.

Perhaps out of everything, that hurt the most. Tyri loathed the asari. She hated their government, she sneered at the leadership, she despised how they treated others. She abhorred the asari culture, and desired nothing less than its complete destruction. Part of Liara sympathized, it was all born out of how Purebloods were treated. Tyri had only ever been attracted to other asari. In other times, that would have been seen as natural. Now she was an abomination, an outcast. And in response to the hatred she experienced, Tyri hated right back.

"You. Bitch." Liara was poised above Tyri, naked and sweating, her entire body throbbing with more biotic power than Liara had ever experienced before in her life. "You never loved me. You've betrayed me, you've betrayed our people. You've tried to destroy everything." Liara's voice was quiet. A mere whisper. The bugs she knew the temple had to have in her apartment would be listening.

"Get up," Liara ordered, climbing off the now cowering Tyri. "Get dressed. We're going for a walk. A very long walk."

"Liara, I-"

"Shut up and get dressed before I flay you with my mind," Liara ordered. Her body rippled with power, energy crackled around her and her voice echoed with power and strength that few asari outside of the most powerful of Ardat-Yakshi would be able to match.

Tyri scrambled to comply, and Liara slipped on her own clothes. She marched Tyri out the door, forcing herself to relax some of her power. It wouldn't do to go out into the night glowing as brightly as a reactor core. She led Tyri down twisting paths, until they came to a quiet, abandoned park. This was where Liara had played as a girl, but the suburb was mostly abandoned now. Many of the asari here had joined the military or economic ventures off Thessia that Councilor Aethyta had instituted.

"Liara, let me explain. At first I wanted to use you yes, but now-" Tyri began.

Liara blasted the lying whore right off her feet. Her anger was cold and burning, something Liara had never felt before. She stomped over and stood over her former lover. Tyri was wiping blood from her mouth, and there was fear in her eyes. That was one emotion Liara hadn't ever thought she would want to see in Tyri's eyes. But now, it brought a wintery sense of satisfaction.

"Nothing you say can ever explain or justify what you did to me," Liara began, trembling with rage. Coils of energy wafted off of her body, and the night was lit with the brilliance of Liara's biotic aura. "So I don't want to hear it. No excuses. No pleading. Do you understand?"

Tyri just nodded mutely, edging away from Liara slightly. "Good. This is what is going to happen. I still need you. The GALAXY still needs you. The Reapers are coming, Tyri. Do you understand that? There isn't time for petty games. There isn't time for your pointless, stupid hatred. Goddess, there isn't time for the stupid games the League and the Citadel are playing! Once, the protheans had culture. Art. Religion. They were a PEOPLE. If you've heard my conversations with Vendetta, if you've seen into my mind, you know what happened to them. They're all dead. And if we want our people to survive, if we want our galaxy to survive in all its beauty, we have to pull together."

Liara knelt, her eyes blazing with power and fury, like a witch-queen of old. "So here is what you are going to do. We will still meld. I need to keep a very close eye on you, and the justicars would notice if we started sleeping in separate bedrooms. But from now on, I lead. You see what I want you to. You tell your mistresses in the League what I want you to. We're going to use your treachery. It's going to be used for good. Because goddess help me, I loved you. I still might love you, in some small way. But you've killed that love. We will never truly be together, just as we were never truly were together. But now, instead of you taking from me, I shall take from you. Do you understand?"

Tyri nodded frantically. "Yes, mistress."

Using her biotics, Liara forced Tyri to stand. "Good. We have a lot of work to do."


	32. Chapter 32

_Today, you people are no longer maggots. Today, you are Marines. You're part of a brotherhood. From now on until the day you die, wherever you are, every Marine __is your brother.__ Most of you will go to Vietnam. Some of you will not come back. But always remember this: Marines die. That's what we're here for. But the Marine Corps lives forever! And that means YOU live forever._

— _Gunnery Sergeant Hartman__, __Full Metal Jacket_

_**Jump Zero - Johnny Shepard**_

_**April 10th, 2172**_

One more day. Johnny grinned into the mirror. One more day and he would be 18. It was his lifelong goal and dream to be an N7, and in one more day, he would take the first step. He would become a marine. By a stroke of luck, Alex's birthday was only a week before Johnny's own. The two of them were boarding a shuttle tomorrow to Arcturus, where the two of them would sign up to join the Marines. See the galaxy. Meet new life forms. Then kill them. Johnny smiled one more time and dried his hands.

He couldn't wait. Not for the killing, he wasn't so sure about that. But what he did know is that he wanted to protect people. He wanted to make the galaxy a better place. To be like Chief Massani and Commander Anderson. Like his mom, even if she was a navy puke. They all protected others, put their lives on the line so that people could be safe. That was what Johnny wanted to do. To keep others safe. He thought of Tali and her family for some reason then. He wanted Babytali to be safe. He wanted her to have a good life, one away from danger.

Johnny finally turned and walked out of the restroom. "Yo Alex, you wanna go-"

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY JOHNNY!"

The sheer volume of the yell caused Johnny to stop dead in his tracks. His jaw dropped. The room was crowded with people. It seemed like all of Dragon Army was there, and half of all the other ones.

"Mom? Tali? Commander Anderson? Gunny? JAK?" It seemed like every person Johnny knew was here, crowded into the Jump Zero mess hall. Somehow, while Johnny had been preoccupied, someone had found the time to hang dozens of streamers that read things like, "Happy Birthday Shepard" or "The Enemy's Gate is Down" and even "Kalros says hello." That one was probably the krogan's fault. Apparently, even though it had been Jak's rite, Johnny had gained quite a bit of notoriety for staring down the galaxies baddest thresher maw and living.

"Happy Birthday Johnny!" Tali squealed, running over and jumping into Johnny's arms in her traditional tackle.

"Good to see you too, Babytali!" Johnny laughed. He didn't notice how crestfallen Tali was at that remark, because before he could take note, he was surrounded by other friends and relatives.

"Johnny boy, its goddamn good to see you again. You been keeping your weapons downrange?" Zaeed Massani demanded.

"Yessir gunny!" Johnny answered, grinning broadly.

Anderson was next, clasping Johnny's hand in his own. "Happy birthday son. You've grown into quite the man."

"Thank you sir!"

Hannah enfolded him in a tight hug. "I'm so proud of you Johnny. So very, very proud of you. I love you," she whispered.

"Thanks mom. I love you too."

Jak was next, though her greeting involved more tongue and spittle than the others had. "Ready for that mating contract yet?"

"Not quite, but I might take you up on that when I get some leave after basic," Johnny laughed. To Jak's chagrin, he was still a virgin. He'd never known his own father, and while he didn't spend a great deal of time dwelling on it, Johnny wasn't about to enter into a relationship where children were clearly intended unless he was going to be a part of their lives.

He didn't see the gleam of envy in Tali's eyes. If he had, it might have made him think. As it was, he was a horny 18 year old, and only had eyes for what was right in front of him.

"Careful with my daughter, runt. You may be part of her krantt, but if you break her heart, I break you," The Shaman of Tuchanka rumbled, her eyes like daggers.

Overlord Wrex chuckled and stepped up beside his mate. "Relax. Shepard's a good man. Besides, even the best males get a little randy from time to time."

For his pains, Wrex had to be helped back to his feet by Johnny after receiving a brutal kick to the quad from the Shaman.

More people crowded in, some that Johnny had worked with for years right here in battle school, others friends from his time with the fleet he hadn't seen for years. Kaidan, Prazza, Chief Goldstein, and dozens more. All here to celebrate his birthday. Words couldn't describe how honored Johnny felt.

After almost half an hour of greetings and meetings, the lights suddenly dimmed. Johnny glanced around, perplexed. A familiar blue light illuminated the room from the kitchen. From the door, a massive cake, held aloft by the biotics of Dragon army and Grandmaster Shali herself, floated into the room.

"Happy birthday to you," someone began, and soon everyone in the crowd took up the song.

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Johnny, Happy Birthday to you!"

"You goddamn bosh'tet!" a familiar voice shouted, and the room erupted in cheers, jeers, and laughter.

From somewhere, Hannah pulled out an enormous knife to cut the cake. It was split into sections, with one clearly labeled as dextro for the quarian guests. She cut the first piece and handed it to Johnny with a lit candle on it. "Make a wish."

For a moment, Johnny held the cake, his mind whirling with possibilities. What should he wish for on his 18th birthday. Suddenly, a memory struck him. "I wish for presents!" he shouted, then blew out the candle and stuffed the entire piece into his mouth.

Later that evening, as the festivities were winding down, Johnny found himself alone with Tali in the crowd. Everyone else had their back turned to them, and he pulled Tali into a big hug on instinct. "Thanks for coming, Babytali," he said softly.

"I'm not a baby anymore," Tali protested, separating herself and folding her arms under her chest. For perhaps the first time, Johnny notice that Tali actually had a chest now. It was sort of a shock, she'd always been Babytali in his mind, even as the years went by.

He flushed and rubbed the back of his head. "Yeah, I guess not," Johnny admitted, trying very hard to keep his eyes on Tali's face.

For some reason, she seemed terribly pleased with his reaction. That was odd, in Johnny's experience most girls got upset with you if you ogled their breasts as obviously as he was looking at Tali's. "That's good you big bosh'tet." Then she stepped in and gave him a tight hug. It was very hard for Johnny not to notice her breasts poking into his stomach. "Stay safe, OK? I love you, and I don't want to lose you."

"I love you too, Babytali," Johnny replied, trying hard to make the conversation less awkward.

"Bosh'tet!" Tali half cried, squeezing him hard one more time, then letting Johnny go.

As the evening wore down and midnight Zulu time approached, Johnny suddenly found himself surrounded by all the marines at the party.

"Who's this goddamn bosh'tet!" Chief Massani roared, planting himself squarely in front of Johnny. His artificial eye glowed ,though Johnny wasn't sure if it was anger or something else.

"Sir, Recruit 3rd Class Johnny'Shepard nar Arcturus!" Johnny answered by reflex.

A finger jabbed into Johnny's chest, driving the breath from him as Zaeed stuck his face right into Johnny's. "Crap like you thinks he can be a marine! What sort of nonsense is this!"

The marines shouted a barrage of insults that would have made Johnny's ears burn if he hadn't spent as much time around marines as he had. As it was, he maintained his posture and stood ramrod straight, his eyes snapping into focus on the middle distance. "Sir, I don't believe I can be a marine, sir!" Johnny shouted at the top of his lungs.

That seemed to take the chief aback slightly. "What, chickened out already have you?"

"Sir, no sir!" Johnny answered.

"That why don't you believe you can be a marine you big ugly ape!" Massani demanded, spittle flying into Johnny's face.

"Sir, I do not believe I can be a marine, sir! I KNOW I can be the best goddamn bosh'tet marine there ever was, sir!"

Zaeed had to work very hard not to smile at the response, but years of training allowed the chief to keep a straight face, barely. Johnny still saw the corners of his mouth twitching upward, and his good eye sparkling with amusement. "I can't goddamn hear you!"

"SIR! I AM GOING TO BE THE BEST GODDAMN BOSH'TET MARINE THERE IS, SIR! I AM GOING TO BE AN N7 SIR!"

"I'll believe it when I goddamn see it! Lieutenant, this bosh'tet thinks he's N7 material!"

"I didn't think we let fresh faced squibs into the marines, much less into N school!" Anderson bellowed, taking his place in front of Johnny.

If anything, Johnny stood up straighter, and he gave Anderson a predatory grin. "Hell sir, basic can't be any harder then surviving a thresher maw."

The krogan in the room began to leap into the air and slam their fists together, coming down with enough force to make Johnny wonder if the deck was going to hold up. Jak was doing the same thing as the rest of the krogan, though her shouts were louder and more profane than any of them. That is, until she noticed her mother glaring at her. Suddenly, Jak's language magically cleaned up.

"Alright, I'll give you that. What do you think marines, is this fresh meat ready for the grinder?" Anderson called, turning to the rest of the marines.

They pressed in, jostling Johnny and shouting "Fresh meat! Fresh meat! Fresh meat!" and several more lurid variations. Kaidan and Jak were the worst of the lot, even though they were easily the youngest marines there. Jak had just finished basic herself, and Kaidan was still a junior officer.

Once the marines had nearly yelled themselves hoarse, they finally backed off. "Well recruit, sounds like it's time for us to make a man out of you," Massani growled.

"Thank you sir!"

_**Arcturus Station - John Shepard**_

_**April 11th, 2172**_

"Repeat after me: I, John Shepard, do solemnly swear to uphold and defend the Constitution of the Independent League, to stand with the peoples of the League against all their enemies, domestic and foreign. That I will bear true faith and Allegiance to the League and her peoples; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter. So help me God, before the Ancestors and Ancients."

John repeated the oath, his expression stern. Admiral Han'Gerral lowed his hand and saluted. "Damn fine to see you here today son. Remember the Beleri! Keelah Se'lai!"

"Keelah Se'lai!" John echoed. He meant it.

_**Camp Jarhead, Shanxi - John Shepard**_

_**May 2nd, 2172**_

"COME ON YOU WHELPS! MOVE LIKE YOU GOT A PURPOSE!" Chief Rohk roared, his beady eyes glaring at the troops as the massive krogan actually managed to sprint backwards in front of them. "I thought they sent me warriors. All I got was a bunch of whiney volus!"

John stayed cool and calm. He knew Rohk was just trying to get a rise out of the recruits, get their gall up to make a mistake. Hell, he'd seen it done with padawans back in Brain Camp. That wasn't his style personally, he was more like Chief Telor. Calm, collected, and encouraging. But you needed both types of training to turn recruits into soldiers.

"OORAH!" John bellowed along with the rest of the recruits. They were in full kit, rifles in their hands as they ran up the biggest damn hill within 20 kilometers of Camp Jarhead. Actually, Suck It Up Hill was almost exactly 20 kilometers from Jarhead. And they'd run the entire 20 kilometers in full gear, starting this morning before the sun was even up.

"You sound like a bunch of quarians with a bellyache!" Rohk laughed.

"Sir, I am a quarian with a bellyache sir!" someone yelled, obviously quarian by their voice.

Rohk's eyes searched for the offender, but he couldn't find them in the mass of recruits. "If you bosh'tets have enough energy to backtalk, you have enough energy to run! MOVE IT!"

This wasn't the group's first time up the hill, though it was their first time up in full kit. John ran easily, keeping pace with the rest of the company. The gravity on Shanxi was within 4% of Earth normal, and after 10 days John was well accustomed to it. He's spent all his life in space though, and what really got to him was the constant changes in temperature and pressure. For someone used to spending his entire life in climate control, it was hard to get used to. But John was tough, 18, and had something to prove. Even now, the instructors had their eyes on recruits, weighing each of them. John was determined that he would prove himself worthy of N school. Officers' N school. Not something that was easy to get into by a long shot.

As a biotic, John was guaranteed to go in at Specialist rank at the very least. He was also certain to receive specialist training of some sort. Biotics were still relatively rare in the League military, and they were highly coveted for a dozen different roles. John was determined to be a frontline trooper though, and N school was the best way to do it. While there were other roles a biotic could fill, John's sights were set on being the best of the best. And that meant special forces training.

A few of the recruits fell out as they neared the crest of the hill, panting from exhaustion or puking their guts out. It was just dry heaves, the run was on a mostly empty stomach. John was feeling that. As a biotic, running on an empty stomach was hard for him. Biotics were not free, and even when he wasn't using them John required more calories than another man would. He prayed they'd be allowed to eat a ration bar, or drink from their canteens at the top. Most of the recruits had just water in their canteens, but John had a high calorie, high electrolyte energy drink. Standard issue for biotics.

When they reached the crest, Chief Rohk was waiting for them, not even out of breath. The krogan was a machine, and he did this run all the time. Carrying a full heavy weapons load out. "Canteens out!" Rohk ordered. "One minute to hydrate!"

Gratefully, John pulled his canteen out and lifted it to his lips, only to have it knocked out of his hands, sending the precious liquid flying. He clenched his fists and glared around, only to relax. It was Rohk. "They tell me you're one hard assed son of a varren," the krogan growled. "Prove it."

John nodded, retrieving his canteen. He spilled the few remaining drops onto the ground while the krogan watched. The Chief nodded in satisfaction. "Thirty seconds whelps! Get ready."

The run back was pure, unadulterated torture for John. His body screamed in agony, desperate for moisture and fuel. John did his best to ignore his body's pleas, but he found himself falling farther and farther back in the formation. He pressed on, gritting his teeth and forcing himself to keep on despite the pain. He wanted nothing more than to fall out and lay down, but he knew if he did that he wouldn't get moving until the medics collected him. Sometimes they let you continue on after something like that. Sometimes they packed you up and sent you away.

Being a marine was a hard, dangerous life. The instructors claimed there was no shame in failing, but John knew better. There was shame, a great deal of it, in failing. He understood the weak had to be pruned away, but he was not weak. He was going to prove that he was strong, that he was the best.

But as the kilometers were pounded away, John kept on falling behind. Soon he found himself at the back with Alexandra Harrington.

"No juice for you either eh?" Alex panted, clutching her side in pain. She was matching John's pace, but only barely.

"Rohk," John confirmed.

Alex muttered a few choice phrases questioning the chief's ancestry and sexual capabilities, but they pressed on. When they hit the three kilometer mark to the base, they fell out of formation completely, left behind in the dust. If he'd been alone, John had a feeling he would have given up. Lay down and waited to be collected by the medics. He was hurting all over, as every implant in his body cried out to be fed and watered. But Alex was there. She wasn't giving up, and by God, John wasn't going to give up either.

It took them twice as long as it should have to complete those final three kilometers, but at the end of it John and Alex stumbled into camp, side by side. Chief Rohk was waiting for them with two canteens of lukewarm energy drink. "Not bad for whelps. Sip it. Slowly."

John complied, taking slow, careful sips of the nectar. He wanted to guzzle the whole thing, but aside from the orders, that was a bad idea. He'd just puke it all back up if he drank too much too quickly.

"Good work today. Get inside and get some chow. It'll be harder tomorrow." With that, Chief Rohk stalked away, though before he went, John thought he saw a glimmer of pride in the tough old krogan's eyes.

_**Camp Hell, Tuchanka - John Shepard**_

_**July 24th, 2172**_

"Recruits. Welcome to Hell. The temperature here is a balmy 54 C during the day, and it drops to a chilly 40 C at night. The wildlife here is the meanest, most vicious, ugly collection of fauna in the entire galaxy. And that's just the natives."

That got some chuckles and cheers from the krogan present, but John was sweating too hard to notice. Shanxi's temperature swings had played hell with John in basic, but Tuchanka was going to kill him if he didn't stay sharp.

Chief Veskar ignored the chatter and pressed right on. "You are here because you think you are worthy of being N's. Some of you are arrogant enough to think you can be officers. My job is to do everything in my power to help you succeed." Then she nodded to Chief Leerg. "His job is to make you fail. He's daddy, I'm mommy. Come crying to me and I'll bust your ass right out. Clear?"

"OORAH!" John shouted with the rest.

"Good. Your first mission is simple. Survive. You've got an emergency communicator. If you activate it, we'll come get you. Then you get a nice ride back to New Grechaw. Failing N school is normal. I expect to graduate no more than 37% of you from Hell. Those who are left will be the meanest, toughest soldiers the League has to offer. Any of you hamsters want to catch a ride back home?"

No one volunteered. Veskar nodded in approval. "Good. Have fun."

As soon as they were dismissed, John found Alex. She'd made it to N school as well. Now came the fun part.

"Priorities?" Alex asked. She was officer material herself, but she deferred to John out of habit.

"Water. Food. Shelter. And food and water are just about tied. We're going to need our biotics, but to use them we need calories. Thankfully, I know a good recipe for klixen and varren stew."

"Shepard," one of the other recruits called, a krogan named Gler. "I heard you're the only human to survive the rite with the Great Mother. I'll follow you."

"Shepard?" another recruit asked, this one a quarian. "Weren't you that kid I saw in the holos?"

"No, you saw which ever poor sap was playing me," John countered. "But yes, I'm probably the one you're thinking of."

"Heard you're a hard son of a bitch," a human male observed. He was older, an experienced marine, but a non-com, not a commissioned officer cadet.

"Shepard was General of Dragon army on Jump Zero," Alex interjected. "He led us to victory every year he was General. He knows how to fight, and how to think. I'd follow him anywhere."

Before long, every recruit was gathered around John. "Right, you two. You look local, you know what garma root looks like?" The two krogan cadets nodded. "Good. Go find some, then start digging. There's usually water near them, and you can eat them. They taste like soap, but they have calories and that's what we need. Alex, take four and get started on shelter. Nichols, Verrk, start finding anything we can use as weapons. Rocks, sharpened sticks, whatever..."

_**Camp Hell Command, Tuchanka - Oro'Veskar**_

"That one in the middle, that's Officer Cadet Shepard, isn't it?" Oro mused. Inside the command bunker, it was actually a pleasant 30C. Well, pleasant for Hell anyway. She sipped at her emergency induction port, enjoying the ice in her water.

"That is the one who faced the Kalros," Leerg confirmed. "They are following him. I suspect we may be seeing a bumper crop of graduates this cycle."

"No bet," Oro snorted. "His mother was on the Nuts, he's dating the Overlord's daughter, and Chief Rohk actually had nice things to say about him. Not to mention he's already got the entire cadre organized."

Leerg silently nodded. Then he pressed a button. A deep BOOM echoed through the valley. "Don't want them to be lonely."

_**Camp Heaven, Luna - John Shepard**_

_**September 15th, 2172**_

Those who survived Hell got sent straight to Heaven. Luna wasn't quite a barren rock, it had trace atmosphere and there were a few scattered domed colonies on it, but it was pretty damn close. John actually preferred operating in the near vacuum. His opinion on the weather was that of most lifelong spacers: he didn't see the point in having it. Especially not when it was weather like they'd had on hell.

Nearly the entire cadre had survived Hell. One had died, a quarian had suffered a suit breach during a klixen attack, and infection had set in too rapidly for the medigel to work. He'd been buried with full military honors as if he'd graduated. Two more had dropped out, though perhaps they might disagree with that choice of words. Both recruits had become medically incapable of continuing, and John had been force to activate their beacons for them. Another recruit had been injured in a live fire exercise, but the krogan had sworn she'd be back as soon as she healed up.

No one else had quit. Many of them attributed that to one John Shepard. John claimed all he'd done was encourage them. He'd gotten very little sleep on Hell. More than once, Alex had forced John to take a nap while she played XO and put out fires. He'd spent nearly every waking moment either fighting for survival, participating in exercises, or more commonly, visiting the other cadets. He'd learned each of their names, got them to open up about their lives, and developed a close bond with each of them.

John seemed to have almost a preternatural ability to tell when someone was struggling or needed to talk. He claimed he'd just learned how to do that helping young padawan's missing their families adjust to life on Jump Zero. Whatever it was, John Shepard had become the unquestioned leader and solid rock of Cadet Team Goddamn Bosh'tets, named in honor of Chief Massani. Despite the physical strain on himself, John kept it up the entire time on Hell, and he looked to be doing the same here on Heaven.

"Nichols, it's just void. You flew through it to get here. Then, all you had was a ship between you and nothing. Now you got a suit. They're made of pretty much the same stuff, and they will keep you equally safe. Just like on a ship, if something goes wrong, we have a plan to deal with it. We have emergency oxygen and suit patches. You need one, I'll know. I've spent my entire life in space. You can trust me."

Nichols' breathing slowed slightly, and the young man looked up gratefully at John. "Yeah, OK. I mean sir, yes sir. Thank you sir."

"You need anything, you talk to Gler. He's your partner. You breath the same air, eat the same food. You watch each other's backs. You go at the same speed. No Bosh'tet gets left behind. Do you read me marine?"

"Oorah," Nichols managed. It still sounded too weak for John, but it was better than the panic attack he'd been having. They'd been living in the suits for three days now. After that long, even an experienced spacer like John was feeling the pressure. For someone that had spent nearly their entire life dirtside like Nichols, it was harder.

John bounced away to meet up with Alex. "How are the others?" he asked, touching his helmet to hers so they could talk without using a comm.

"Holding up. The quarians are doing the best. They're used to spending this much time in a suit. The krogan still think it's a game, but a few of them are laughing more out of nervousness than genuine thrills. Gler?"

"Told him Nichols was his responsibility. Perked him right up. He just needs a nice human or quarian to protect, and that Oath of theirs kicks in."

"Good one sir. Think that will work for the others?"

"Not as well. Gler has a protection streak a kilometer long. For Rill or Chandy, they need to look tough in front of another warrior."

"Understood sir. Anything you need from me? You need some rest."

"No Alex, thank you. I'll catch a few winks. I'm sure the instructors have something nasty planned for us later."

"Heh, they always do."

_**Arcturus - David Anderson**_

_**December 9th, 2172**_

Never before had Anderson been so proud to see a new batch of recruits. The Goddamn Bosh'tets had obtained the highest success rate of any cadre since the inception of N School. Normally, of those who began, only 15% made it all the way. This time, an unprecedented 64% of recruits had finished N school. The reason for that success was standing tall and proud at the front, braced stiffly at attention. Johnny Shepard. Anderson shook his head. No. He wasn't a child anymore. He was Second Lieutenant John Shepard, N1.

At his side stood Second Lieutenant Alexandra Harrington, N1. She had been John's effective XO for the duration, working smoothly in concert with Shepard to ensure the safety and wellbeing of every recruit, but especially that of one John Shepard. She was going to be a fine officer. Nearly as fine as Shepard.

"Officer on deck!" Anderson barked, and Admiral Steven Hackett stepped onto the stage. The recruits all snapped off picture perfect salutes in perfect unison.

"At ease," Hackett rumbled, returning the gesture.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, never before have I been so honored to speak at the graduation ceremony of a new batch of N's. No longer are you cadets. You are the best, normally I would say the few that remain, but in this case, I don't think it's appropriate."

That got no laughs, but chests swelled, and smiles of grim satisfaction and determination flicked over the recruits' faces. The quarians' eyes glowed just a bit brighter, and Anderson smiled. Shepard really had done them proud. Anderson hadn't imagined that the young boy he'd once cradled in his arms while he wept tears of pain would become such a fine young officer. It made Anderson proud to be a marine. Proud to be a Leaguer. And especially proud to have influenced the life of such a fine officer.

"I'm not going to bore you with long speeches. I respect your abilities too much for that. As you know, the League is in a corner with its back to the wall. The Citadel is poised to exterminate us, and even darker threats loom beyond the horizon. You are the ones who will defend us. You will be the men and women in the trenches. You are the best we have. And by God, you're the best in the entire galaxy. Keelah Se'lai, Bosh'tets!"

"KEELAH SE'LAI! OORAH!"

Anderson yelled just as loud as the rest of them. Damn, but it was fine to be a marine.


	33. Chapter 33

_What does it mean to be a turian? Duty. Honor. Obligation. Service. To be a turian is to be a part of a line that extends unending back to the time of the first Primark. It is to serve not just the Hierarchy, but to serve the spirits of every turian that has lived, is living, and will live. It is to stand not alone, but side by side with your brothers. To be a turian is to be a part of the most ancient and honorable military tradition in the known galaxy. A turian never retreats, never abandons his duty, never compromises the law for the sake of expediency. If you can do all that, you have a pretty good start on what it means to be a turian. _

_-General Adrian Victus_

_**Camp Gaius, Palaven - Garrus Vakarian**_

_**November 4th, 2172**_

Garrus Vakarian was beginning to suspect he might not be a good turian. If he were a human, raised in a society that preached individual freedoms, he might have been pleased by that. After all, he was 15. That was the age of adolescence in turians, and for many species adolescence meant rebellion. For a turian, it meant going to boot camp.

In certain aspects of boot camp, Garrus excelled. He proved to have incredible dexterity and aim, and was easily the top shot in his entire cohort. He was skilled in hand to hand, his arms long and his talons sharp. He was even good at small unit tactics, able to overcome obstacles in record time with non-linear solutions and unorthodox approaches to problems. Unfortunately for Garrus, non-linear solutions and unorthodox tactics were distinctly un-turian. And right at this moment, he just didn't care.

The entire cadre had been hiking all day, with no rest. They'd eaten a very brief meal while still marching through the rough foothills around Camp Gaius, and been watered still keeping up the pace. Garrus had fallen and hurt his foot, but other than a quick binding he'd done himself, he had received no treatment. Turians were supposed to be tough, and Garrus was determined to show he was as good as anyone. People were aware his father was a Spectre, and that meant they expected more from him. And that Garrus expected more from himself. It wasn't supposed to work that way, but it did. The Hierarchy was ruthless about perceived nepotism, and practiced a reverse sort of favoritism. If your parents were high ranking, you were required to be better than others to receive the same promotions. Garrus was beginning to find that highly irritating. Scratch that. Garrus was well past finding that highly irritating.

"Listen up legii! This is the obstacle course. Just what you need to help you warm up after a brisk morning stroll. Whoever completes this course first will receive a commendation and a lift back to camp in my air car," the instructor bellowed.

At the mention of a lift and commendation, Garrus perked up. He studied the obstacle course, and his spirits sunk slightly. If he'd been in top condition, he would have been a real contender. But he was limping pretty badly now, and just completing the course would be a strain. There had to be a way...

He raised a talon. "Sir, is the only requirement for the commendation that we cross the finish line before anyone else in our cadre?"

The instructor nodded. "Yes. The first legio across the finish line gets a ride and a commendation for endurance and athletic ability. There is no reward for second place."

Garrus kept his mandibles very still so they didn't spread in delight. He readied himself as if to take a running start, but when the instructor rang the bell, Garrus casually walked forward. Everyone else spilled onto the netting and started to climb. Garrus watched them scramble to the top, then zip line across to the poles they had to slide down.

Bypassing the whole thing, Garrus walked around the wall. He walked under the zip lines, avoided the poles, and jogged past the stones everyone else was trying to hop across to avoid the sticky tar. While the others had to scramble through pipes at a 30 degree angle, Garrus just walked right past them. Every other obstacle, he avoided. He reached the finish line before anyone else was even halfway through.

Another instructor was waiting at the end, and noticed Garrus limping towards her. "You fall out?" she asked.

"No ma'am," Garrus answered, and rung the finish bell.

He then waited calmly for the rest of the cohort, who were shocked that Garrus had beaten them so handily. "How'd you get ahead of me?" the first girl across the finish line demanded. "I used my biotics to get ahead and everything!"

"I don't have biotics, Kandros. You know that. I used my brain instead."

Kandros just bent double and panted to catch her breath. She was different, like Garrus. Both of them were outsiders, Kandros because she was one of the rare turian biotics, Garrus because he was the son of a Spectre. And because his political views, though he was smart enough to keep them to himself unless asked.

The first instructor jogged up, glaring at Garrus. "You cheated. Disqualified."

That was what Garrus had expected, but he raised a talon anyway.

"What is it, legio?" the instructor demanded.

"Sir, you specifically stated the reward would be given to the legio who crossed the finish line first. You never said we actually had to complete the course."

"That was obviously your objective!" the instructor shouted, his voice thrumming with suppressed anger. "You deliberately misinterpreted your orders to your advantage. Legio Kandros will receive the reward."

"As will Legio Vakarian," a new voice stated.

The instructor glanced behind Garrus, then saluted. "Spectre. Here to inspect the new legii?"

The new turian nodded. "Indeed. I was impressed by Legio Vakarian. He is obviously injured, and didn't have a hope of winning. Might not have even completed the obstacle course. So he found a way. I like that."

The female instructor hummed disapprovingly. "Not very turian of him."

"No," the Spectre admitted. "But very effective. Come along Vakarian. You can ride in my car."

Grateful that he wouldn't have to walk and not worried about the later consequences of making his instructors look bad, Garrus eagerly hobbled after the Spectre. "Thank you sir, I appreciate it."

The Spectre stayed silent, and Garrus scrambled into the passenger compartment of the air car. He leaned back and relaxed, grateful to finally be off his throbbing foot.

"Here. Put this on your foot." The Spectre passed Garrus an odd looking packet with writing Garrus couldn't immediately place. It wasn't turian, asari or salarian.

"What is this sir?" Garrus asked, taking off his boot and rubbing the jelly like substance into his wound. Almost immediately, the pain washed away and his muscles and tendons relaxed.

"It's called medigel. It's pretty hard to come by outside of League space. But I have my sources."

"Whatever it is, it did the trick. Thank you very much sir."

"Consider it an investment. I know your father quiet well. Flavus and I are old friends, back from our Idle Knife days."

For a moment, Garrus couldn't place the reference, and it took him a few seconds longer to match what he knew about his father's old navy days with names of Spectre's that he knew. Garrus had always had an analytical brain though, and he was able to find the name that appeared on both lists. "Nihlus Kryik?"

Nihlus nodded in approval. "Your father always said you were a sharp one. Naturally, there is probably some level of bias on his part, but I think you're likely almost as good as he thinks you are."

"My father talks about me?"

"You, your sister, and your mother. He's rather devoted, even if he does seem to spend all his time in the field. He does it to protect you. Because he loves you."

"Maybe that's what makes him a better turian than I am," Garrus muttered sourly.

As soon as the words left Garrus' maw, Nihlus started thrumming with humor. "You don't know your father half as well as you think. Next to me, he's probably the worst turian I know. And the best man I've ever worked with."

Garrus sat up straighter. "What do you mean?"

"Legio, your father isn't afraid to bend the rules. He believes in doing what's right. Oh sure, when he left the navy, he was about as stiff necked as they come. But he's changed. He's seen the dirty side of the galaxy. Seen horrors you can't even imagine. That's not something you can face and walk away from unscathed. Once he saw just how bad things could be, he told me something. Told me that it didn't matter what rules he had to break, he was going to keep his family safe."

The air car slowed and began to descend. When they touched down, Garrus hopped out and discovered his foot felt almost normal. He wiggled his claws experimentally, then turned and saluted Nihlus. "Thanks for the ride sir. And everything else."

_**Camp Gaius, Palaven - Garrus Vakarian**_

_**February 17th, 2173**_

Water. Garrus HATED water. Well, it was OK to drink, and showers could be nice, but large bodies of water were not Garrus' thing. Judging by the expressions of the other legii, that was a sentiment shared by just about every turian. Since turians were covered in metal, they didn't float very well. In fact, they sank like rocks. As such, turians avoided large bodies of water like the plague, which on Palaven was easy enough to do. The canal in front of Garrus had actually been constructed specifically for the exercise the instructors were now explaining.

"Not every world is as dry as Palaven. In fact, most are not. Some worlds are actually more water than land. A few of our colonies are even that way. As such, there will be times when you are expected to cross water. Water you can't just wade through. Now, I'm not expecting any of you to learn how to swim, but you will need to learn to conquer your fear and trust your gear."

Taking a deep breath, Garrus checked the seal on his hardsuit and helmet one more time. They were secure, of course. He took a look around him, and noticed that Kandros wasn't nearly as twitchy or nervous as the other recruits. He stepped towards her, glancing around to make sure none of the instructors could hear. "You know something I don't?" he asked quietly.

She turned and spread her mandibles in a mocking grin. "I can swim."

"What? How?" Garrus demanded before he could think. Then he stopped himself. "Of course, your biotics. If you reduce your mass, you could actually float or swim in water."

"Pretty sharp. You got biotics in your family, Vakarian?"

"No. I'm just a very bad turian."

"Funny. I feel the same way most days."

"Hmmm. Feel like being especially bad today?"

Nyreen's eyes glowed with delight. "If it pisses the instructors off as much as your stunt on the obstacle course a few months back? Titans, yes."

When the bell rang for the recruits to enter the water, Garrus felt himself become nearly weightless as a blue field enveloped him. He jumped in, holding Nyreen's talons.

Garrus copied the strange motions Nyreen was making, and found himself making steady progress along the surface of the water. Below in the murk, he could see the other recruits struggling along the bottom, flailing about to keep their footing. He spread his mandibles in pleasure, and continued to thrash his legs like Nyreen was doing. They made it across the 30 meter channel in record time. There was no reward for being the first across, but that didn't matter. What mattered was he'd found a way to do it that was BETTER. It wasn't the turian way, but it was the intelligent way.

Hauling himself out of the muck, Garrus looked up, prepared for a tongue lashing from an instructor, and probably a directive to get back out there and do it again, the turian way. Probably at least four times. Instead, Garrus found himself staring up at a turian in a uniform with the patterns of a full general.

"Oh sprits," he muttered.

Nyreen braced to attention and saluted, her previously jaunty attitude having vanished along with Garrus'. "General Victus, sir!"

"At ease legio," Victus growled. He glanced at the canal, then back at the two panicky legii in front of him. "Very impressive. Let me guess. Kandros and Vakarian."

"Yes sir," Kandros and Garrus chorused, both trying hard to keep their gaze level instead of studying their boots.

General Victus rubbed his chin with a talon. "That's probably the fastest crossing I've ever seen. How'd you do it? I know you used biotics, I could clearly see it from here. But describe the process to me."

"Well sir, I'm from Augustin," Nyreen explained. "There's a big crater lake near there. I used to go down and play when I was a kid. When my biotics manifested, I spent more and more time at the lakeshore, to get away from everyone and to practice. I discovered I could reduce my mass to float, and over time I taught myself how to swim in the lake. Vakarian noticed I was up to something and wanted in. I just reduced his mass along with mine and towed him across."

"Fascinating. A turian that can swim. That's downright useful. Especially since so many of the worlds the League inhabits are brimming with water. They build many of their settlements on large bodies of it," the general mused, then continued thoughtfully. "It wouldn't be hard to rig up an orbital insertion belt that just gave you neutral buoyancy and then to teach our troopers how to swim. It's new, so some people won't like it. But the military applications are clear." Then general nodded, then looked back at the two legii. "I'll make a note of this in both your files."

With that, the general turned and marched away, apparently finished with the legio. Garrus turned to Nyreen, who shook her head. "That went a lot better than I thought it would," the biotic muttered.

"Vakarian, Kandros! I don't care how much the general likes your new tricks! Get back in there and do it the right way this time! And then you can come back across the same way!"

Garrus and Nyreen looked at each other, then they shrugged and walked back into the water. Without the biotics this time.

_**Camp Gaius, Palaven - Garrus Vakarian**_

_**May 20th, 2173**_

"My son, I can't begin to tell you how proud of you I am. I've heard the reports coming back, and while the overwhelming majority of them are negative, the ones that matter show your true character. Nihlus and General Victus praised your ingenuity and novel approaches to solving problems. Your instructors may tell you that you're a bad turian, but I know better. You're a very good person, even if you don't fit the mold of a turian."

The holo of Falvus Vakarian sighed, and glanced away from the pickup. "Garrus, I haven't always been there for you. I hope one day you can understand that what I've done, I've done for you, your sister, and your mother. I miss all you of you terribly, and it pains me that I didn't get to see you become the man you are today. One day, I hope you'll understand. The galaxy is growing more dangerous every single day. The League is becoming more of a threat, despite my best efforts and the efforts of many other good people. Including a few from within the League itself. And there are other things. Things I hope I never have to tell you about. But I will say that the League is far, far down the list of threats to the Citadel and the Hierarchy."

"Keep up in your training. Don't fall into the trap of open rebellion. The Hierarchy is strong because of its traditions. Discipline. Honor. Obligation. Service. These are good things. They are what make the turian people strong. But a strong people with a weakness. Sometimes, a few have to break stride to keep the others safe. It doesn't make them wrong, it doesn't make them evil, it just means they need a spotter to keep them on target. I think that's something you can relate to."

For a moment, his father's image hesitated, talons hovering over the termination switch. Then, softly, almost too softly for Garrus to hear, his father whispered, "I love you, son." With that, the image vanished.

Garrus sat silently in his bunk for a few seconds after the image faded, pondering his father's letter. He had been feeling especially rebellious lately. While his antics had twice earned him favor with the higher ups, his everyday instructors continued to be frustrated by them. And not every idea worked. When Garrus had tried to take a short cut on a mountain hike, he'd nearly stumbled into a razorleaf patch and cut himself to bits. He'd still received an extremely unpleasant collection of nicks and cuts, not to mention a lengthy chewing out. He guessed his father was right, sometimes the turian way WAS the best way. But at the same time, sometimes it wasn't.

"Yo Garr, you gonna sit there all day, or you gonna actually respond to Mellis' challenge?"

Garrus glanced up and tucked away the OSD with his father's letter. "That time already Lan?"

"Yep. Provost Sintarli is gonna oversee this one herself! You can't back out now man!" Sidonis charged, half dancing with excitement.

"Oh, I won't." Garrus stopped to pick up his Mantis rifle on the way out of the barracks. He preferred to use his own personal model instead of the one he'd been issued. He knew all of his gun's little quirks, and he'd spent countless hours calibrating it so it fired just right. He was a fair shot with the newer Viper rifles, but he preferred the Mantis' massive punch, even though it had a much slower rate of fire than the Viper.

It was only a short walk to the firing range, and Garrus kept his stride steady. Mellis was an older legio from another cadre. She was in her last month of training, whereas Garrus was just over halfway through his standard year. Both legii had a reputation as lethal shots, the best in their respective cadres. And both of them had challenged and defeated the top shots in the other cadres. Now, Garrus was out to represent the honor of the 168th Cadre, the Gyrehawks. Perhaps it was time to prove he could be just as good a turian as anyone else. No tricks, no cunning plans. Just skill.

Nyreen was waiting for Garrus and Lantar, and she nodded her approval as they walked up. "Glad to see you decided to show up."

"Wouldn't miss it," Garrus replied.

The shooting range was set on the slope of a large, craggy hill, which was a rust color instead of the usual silver of Palaven's surface. It had been blasted away at by so many generations of turians that the legio joked that it was half ferrous oxide. There was some truth to that, though the entire camp had more brown tones than the majority of Palaven's surface. Mellis and Sintarli were waiting for Garrus, and for a moment, Garrus felt a pang of trepidation. Both cadres had assembled behind the firing lines, waiting expectantly for the contest. If Garrus were to fail, his reputation would be irreparably damaged. He'd still graduate, but he could never hope to achieve a prime posting.

Only for a moment though, then Garrus stomped down on his fears. This wasn't a time for doubts. Garrus stepped up to the firing line and saluted Sintarli. "Provost."

"Legio Vakarian." She checked her watch and nodded approvingly. "Exactly on time. Considering your reputation, I'm impressed. There will be no creative solutions here, legio. Understood?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Good. As defending champion, Mellis has first shot. The first round will be at 150 meters. There will be additional rounds at 300, 450, 600, 750, and 900 meters. If a tie-breaker is necessary, it will take place at 1050 meters. Each round will consist of three shots; standing, kneeling, and prone. Round scores are weighted to reflect the difficulty of the shots. Any questions?"

Neither Garrus or Mellis responded, and Sintarli nodded in approval. "Very well. You may fire when ready."

Garrus watched closely as Mellis approached the firing line. She obviously knew what she was doing, holding her rifle easily in exactly the prescribed textbook fashion. There was a reason that method was textbook, two thousand years of practice had proven it to be the ideal pose in controlled situations like this one. Her breathing slowed, then her rifle thudded and she depressed the firing key. Garrus used his own scope to check her score and he grunted in admiration. It was as close to flawless as you were going to get in the real world. At 150 meters the shot wasn't exactly the most difficult, but it still took skill to manage.

Mellis' next two shots were not quite as good, but they were close enough to still earn a top score. Garrus took his own place at the firing line, nodding respectfully to Mellis. "Good shots. I've got my work cut out for me."

Her mandible's twitched in amusement. "I'll be interested to see what sort of a workout you're going to give me."

As soon as Garrus reached the line, he put everything else out of his head. He focused on the shot. The wind. The air pressure. The temperature. He adjusted his rifle's computer accordingly, choosing the specific shape and weight of his round. A mass accelerator round was tiny, in most cases, smaller than a grain of sand. All its killing power came from its near relativistic velocity, not its size. The computer that shaved off the round to be fired usually did so automatically, but could be set to manual for more precise work.

Garrus cradled his rifle in a manner similar to Mellis, his stance differing only in the prescribed fashion for male turians to hold their rifles. He had longer arms, and his mandibles and head crests poked out a bit further. The textbook took all of that into account, with carefully prescribed formulas for each turian body type. Garrus sucked in a breath, held it just an instant longer than normal, and depressed the fire button as he exhaled.

His first shot was good, but not as good as Mellis' first shot was. He was too excited, to wrapped up in the competition. He forced himself to calm down, existing only in the moment of the shot, not in the grander scheme of things. Garrus knelt, prepared himself, and fired. That shot was better. His prone shot was better still.

He walked back to the ready position, and Mellis nodded approvingly. "You're good. This will be rewarding."

That wasn't quite what Garrus had expected her to say, and he decided it would be best for him to just say nothing. He didn't want to be accused of throwing off Mellis' aim through head games. He was going to do this one by the book.

Rounds sped by as the sun slowly danced overhead. Garrus came out in the lead on several, Mellis on others. Overall they were fairly close in rounds won, with Mellis gaining a slight edge. However, since each successive round was relatively more points, it was still any turian's prize.

As Mellis stepped away from the line after her last shot at 900 meters, Garrus calculated what he would have to score to win. It wasn't impossible; he'd shot better in the past, but not often. He'd have to be at the top of his game to hope to beat Mellis. The crowd behind him was silent, but Garrus could feel the pressure of their gazes upon him. He could feel the spirits of all the legii of the Gyrehawks watching him. Nelzin herself, sprit of the 168th, seemed to fix him with her far-seeing eyes.

Instead of pushing all that aside, Garrus drew it into himself. That weight of tradition, that legacy and lineage of which he was a part. He took strength from that honor. He would not disappoint.

Garrus' first shot was as close to flawless as he'd ever come in that position at 900 meters. His second was good, but not great. His last was worthy of a perfect score. Before he even lowered his rifle, he knew what the final score was. He'd won, though by a rather slim margin, less than 1% of the total points offered.

He turned to face his cadre. They all struck their chests three times, then folded their arms across their chests in the sign of the Gyrehawk. He mimicked the gesture, then turned to Mellis, bobbing slightly as a sign of respect. "Nezlin was with me. That's the best I've ever shot, and I needed that to beat you."

Mellis mimicked the bob, facing Garrus so that only he could see her. Her mandibles dropped and splayed, revealing brightly colored patches of skin underneath. "You had the reach, Legio Vakarian. Perhaps later, we can have a rematch. I am rather flexible."

"I, uh, would enjoy that," Garrus managed, keeping his own mandibles very still.

"Legio Vakarian is the victor," the Provost proclaimed. "He gives honor to the spirit of the 168th." Her eyes sparkled, and SIntarli added, "A most turian thing to say. Well done."


	34. Chapter 34

"_Everything has beauty, but not everyone sees it."  
― Confucius_

_**Vancouver, Earth - Tali'Zorah**_

_**June 26, 2175**_

"Ladies and gentlemen, the class of 2174!"

Tali whooped and hollered along with everyone else, taking her hat off of her head and tossing it into their air. Her hair was a mess, but she didn't mind. For the first time ever, Tali was able to go completely without an environmental suit on planets whose atmosphere she'd been exposed to. Her glowing eyes gazed up at sky, still well lit thanks to the long summer days of the north.

Someone tried to jump on Tali's back, but she easily stepped aside, then pulled Kelly up off the ground and hugged her. "We made it!"

"I know," Tali half laughed, half cried. She was officially an adult now, graduated from high school and a part of the community. At least in human terms. As a quarian, there was something else that was going to need to be accomplished first.

She strode through the crowd, giving friends and acquaintances hugs and tears. She didn't have very many close friends aside from her older sister and Kelly. Actually, aside from Kelly and Amberly, Tali only had one really close friend. Some days though, she wondered if he realized she was alive. He hadn't called in ages, not even a letter. Which wasn't doing anything for Tali's self esteem.

Why did she have to fall for a bosh'tet like Johnny Shepard? Other than the fact that he was handsome, brave, strong, polite, an officer in the marines, and happened to be one of the few humans who actually LISTENED when Tali talked about Rannoch. Keelah, that was more than most quarians did these days! Didn't they remember their culture, their people?

Forcing herself back to the present, Tali posed for yet another picture with her friends. She was happy, at least for now. She wouldn't leave on her pilgrimage for a week. She was going to spend her time making good memories with her family and friends before she left, not stewing about some stupid boy.

She spotted Amberly in her work clothes. Her sister was working at the star port as a part-time server at one of the cafes while she attended university and the bright yellow and orange of the Spacies uniform was pretty easy to spot in a crowd. She ran over and gave her older sister a big hug.

"Congratulations!" Amberly laughed. "Now that you're out in the real world, got any big plans?"

"Well, we were going to see Fleet and Flotilla 3: Love Under Fire," Tali grinned. "Other than that, I can't think of anything. Kelly wanted to go to some parties, but I put my foot down. I'm not drinking before I go on Pilgrimage."

"That's OK Tali!" Kelly giggled, coming up behind her. "I hear we're going to have our own party with a very special guest star!"

Tali frowned and glanced at Kelly, then at her sister who had an enormous silly grin on her face. "What sort of very special guest star?"

"Oh, I don't know. Why don't you tell her, Lieutenant?"

Amberly stepped out of the way, and Tali's eyes widened. Before her stood the poster boy for the Independent League Marine Corps. He was in the immaculate blue on black of the League, with his blue beret tucked neatly under one arm. His hands were covered with crisp white gloves, one of which rested on the golden hilt of an archaic sword. The other held a massive bouquet of shin'la aaref, Ladies of the Dawn, from Rannoch. His head was shaved to stubble, and his cheeks were so cleanly shorn Tali thought she could run her hand over the skin and it would be as smooth as a baby's hamster ball. The one thing out of place was the mouth. It was hanging open, and Tali half expected drool to start dribbling out of it. The eyes were so wide and bugged out that combined with the open mouth, the marine looked more like a salarian than a human.

"Johnny?"

"B-b-babytali?" Johnny stammered. Then his jaw clacked shut and he gave her a big grin. "Undess havo, ness'leeta." Success on the eve of your journey, Pilgrim.

Tali smiled and jumped into Johnny's arms. "You came!"

_**Vancouver, Earth - John Shepard**_

Currently, Second Lieutenant John Shepard, ILMC, was feeling rather conflicted. He had a girlfriend. Sort of. Jak was in the service as well, and she was deployed in the DMZ on garrison duty. She didn't like garrison duty, but at least the station was a hot zone. The marines there might not see much action, but the station rated hazardous duty pay due to the imminent nature of a conflict between League and Citadel. John and Jak didn't see much of each other, but they kept in contact.

At least, better than John had with Tali. And that brought him to the source of his conflict. The angel, no, girl, no woman, GAH! standing before him, was someone he'd known almost all his life. Hell, he'd slept in the same bed as her on more than one occasion, though not since they'd both been very young. He'd never felt the least bit of lust regarding one Tali'Zorah nar Rayya before in any of those situations.

Which made the fact that if Tali asked any questions, he was going to have to claim he had an ammo block in his pocket, rather awkward. He'd always known Tali was a girl on an intellectual level. Even if she did like robots and legos more than dolls or makeup, he'd still been aware she was a girl. She just hadn't been an attractive girl. Maybe it was the tiniest bit shallow of him, but with her mask on, Tali had always been like a sister to him. Now that it was off though, the feelings John was experiencing were decidedly NOT what a man felt for a sister.

He forced his scrambled thoughts to knit together and smiled down and the beauty he was holding in his arms. "Of course I came."

_Oh Jesus, what am I going to do now that I'm here?_

_**Vancouver, Earth - Tali'Zorah**_

Something was different about Johnny. Tali wasn't quite sure what it was. She'd seen him a couple of times since he'd graduated from N school, and he'd been changed then, but this was different. Before, the change had been more of a boy growing into a man. Now there was something else. The way he looked at her, the way he was talking to her was different. He wasn't treating her the same way as he used to. Was it because she was an adult now? Tali wasn't sure about that. Johnny had never been one to treat you differently because you were younger than he was.

It was sort of nice though. She snuggled up next to Johnny in the back of Amberly's ground car. Kelly was sitting up front, having called shotgun approximately a million meters from the parking lot. That was typical Kelly, but when she'd done it, there'd been a light of mischief in her eyes. She'd seen that look before, but Tali couldn't quite place where she had. Amberly was driving and giving Johnny a rundown of the latest family events, though she was calling Johnny "Lieutenant" or "Shepard." Which was weird. Amberly had known Johnny for years, and he'd always been just plain Johnny.

As Tali leaned in to Johnny, he stiffened slightly, then relaxed, though he still seemed to be holding his breath for some reason. He put an arm around Tali's shoulders and gave her a squeeze, and she sighed contentedly. He could be a thick witted bosh'tet of a man, but at least he had made it to her graduation. He was even staying for the full week so he could see Tali off on her Pilgrimage. She was grateful for that, she was still nervous about the Pilgrimage.

Most quarians Tali's age or older had given up on the Pilgrimage. Originally, the Pilgrimage had been meant to prove you were a contributing member of society, in a society that had no room for non-productive members. Times were very different in the League. Slacking off or proving worthless were still stigmatized, but it wasn't the death knell it had been. While the League certainly didn't have an overabundance of resources, it did have enough for everyone. In the fleet the meager resources a Pilgrim brought back were vital, those same resource in the League were just a drop in the ocean.

In response, most quarian youth now gave some sort of civil service, or joined the military. The League was desperate for workers in a hundred fields, and every skill set had a job waiting for it. The spirit of the Pilgrimage was more or less preserved, proving that one was willing to give of herself for the greater good. But one key, vital element was missing: Rannoch.

The death of Rael'Zorah had been the death of a dream in many ways. His staunchest supporter, Han'Gerral, lacked the vision that Rael had possessed. Like so many other quarians, Han was more concerned with the most obvious threat of the Citadel and building up the new home the quarians had found. The most influential member of the quarian race, Fleet Admiral Vexxu, had married a human. That was actually something Tali intended to emulate with the man she was nestled against, but what she didn't want to mimic was Vexxu's abandonment of Rannoch. Even before she'd taken a human mate, Vexxu had stated in no uncertain terms that the quarian race was better off focusing on the present instead of living in the past.

Tali agreed. But the homeworld wasn't the past. It was the future. Living on Earth and the colonies was all well and good. No matter how long the quarians lived on Earth, it would never truly be home. They would always be guests in another woman's home. That was why they needed Rannoch. To prove that they were not houseguests, however indispensible and beloved. They were equal partners in a marriage, not a race that needed charity.

They arrived at the movie theater, which was crowded with other graduates and their friends. Kelly and Amberly ran ahead. Kelly had arranged for her latest boyfriend to meet them at the theater, leaving Tali and Johnny to walk by themselves. Tali linked her arm with Johnny's and smiled up at him.

"Have you ever seen any of the Fleet and Flotilla movies?"

He was silent for a moment, gazing down into Tali's eyes. She wasn't exactly short for a quarian, but Johnny was tall, nearly 2 meters. "Can't say that I have," Johnny admitted after a moment.

"They do an excellent job of portraying human and quarian relationships you know," Tali said, doing her best not to be coy.

Johnny stumbled, and Tali squawked in surprise as he nearly dragged her down with him. When they finally regained their footing, Tali glanced up at Johnny in consternation. He'd always been athletic, and she'd rarely seen him lose his footing, even when scrabbling over damp rocks or rotten logs. She'd certainly never seen him stumble over clear pavement. The marine's face was bright red, and he was pointedly not looking at Tali.

"Oh, um, is that so?"

"Yes! I've already seen this one of course; it's a musical. It's not as good as the first one about Steven and Vexxu, this one's purely fictional. But the lead actress has a beautiful singing voice! She's a human, but she can sing in keelish as well as a native."

While Tali was making conversation, she studied Johnny very carefully. As she had thought, something WAS different. Aside from the sudden case of the clumsies, Johnny was treating her like, well, a woman. Before, he'd treated her more like a playmate or a sibling. Now though... Now Johnny was acting sort of like Kelly did when she developed a crush on a new boy. Admittedly with significantly less girlish giggles and talking.

To her surprise, it made Tali a bit angry. It wasn't too hard to figure out what was different about her now. She had her mask off. Part of her was still thrilled that the man she'd had a crush on since before she knew what crushes were now found her attractive. A larger part was aggravated that it would be something so shallow as her physical appearance that would prompt the change. She removed her arm from Johnny's and stalked off, fuming silently.

Johnny Shepard was a bosh'tet of a man.

_**Vancouver, Earth - John Shepard**_

A very small part of John was grateful that Tali had suddenly become angry with him. He was slightly uncomfortable with his newfound attraction to her. Mostly because it was hard to suddenly be attracted to a woman you'd thought of as family for most of your life. While she was angry with him, there was little chance of John suddenly deciding to make an idiot out of himself and profess his love for her. Not that he was likely to do that in the first place. He hoped.

That was only a very small part of him though. John was a people person. He cared about others, wanted them to succeed, to feel comfortable and respected, and to bring out the best in them. He also wanted to be liked by them. He accepted that he couldn't always do that, and that to attempt to please everyone was madness. But the thought of Tali being angry at him hurt John. He knew it had to be something he'd done, some remark he'd inadvertently made.

As he wracked his brains for what he'd done, John also tried to be honest with himself. Part of the reason he was suddenly attracted to Tali was the fact that this was the first time he'd seen her with no suit. It was shallow. And a hardwired response. In the known galaxy, there were three species that humans generally found innately attractive. The first was obviously fellow humans. The second was the asari; even female humans could succumb to the allure and pheromones combined with a biotic whammy, of the blue succubi. The last were the quarians.

In a twist of fate, quarians resembled nothing so much as the Tolkienesque Elves of human mythology. They were slender and graceful, generally less muscular than a human, and physically proportionately weaker. That was the primary motivating factor behind the development of the geth as a labor force. Quarians lacked the endurance and power of humans, and the geth had been designed to overcome that weakness. To compensate, quarians had generally faster reflexes and were better sprinters and gymnasts. If an athletic competition between quarians and humans were to be held, which many were, the quarians would sweep the sprints and the gymnastic events, while humans would handily win the weight lifting and marathons.

The primary difference physically speaking came in the form of the quarians' legs. Their knees were built like a kangaroo's, and it gave their steps a slightly springy, swaying quality. That had served them well on their desert home world, where calorie conservation was vital. And a quality John was suddenly finding rather alluring as he watched Tali stalk up to the theater. Quarian eyes were also best suited for night vision, and quarians were actually universally red-green colorblind and couldn't distinguish between shades of purple. They could still see most colors, but had a hard time distinguishing between specific shades. Compared to a quarian though, humans were blind in the dark. Rannoch had been a hot, dry world, where activity was traditionally at night. Quarians were naturally nocturnal, though they had nearly universally adjusted to the diurnal human sleep schedule.

There was also the matter of the quarians' feet and hands, which bore three toes and fingers instead of a human's five. That difference was entirely cosmetic, and aside from needing a different keyboard when typing, quarians were just as dexterous, if not more so, than humans. Their skin tones were also very different. Instead of the browns, tans and peach of human skin colors, quarian skin tones were grey, ranging from an off white color to a coal black. Unlike humans, who were occasionally still referred to as white or black, in the case of the quarians it was literal. If someone said a quarian was white or black, you could take a crayon out of a box with that label and it would match their skin tone. Tali herself had aluminum shade skin, though it wasn't metallic like a turian's.

One thing that made quarians attractive to humans was that they manifested their sexual dimorphism in a rather similar manner. Quarian woman had a rather prodigious set of hips that human males found extremely attractive, as well as mammary analogues in exactly the same place. John was a particularly big fan of the mammary analogues, and Tali had a rather pleasantly sized set herself. Quarian breasts tended to be smaller than human breasts, as the quarian frame supported less fat, but that was fine by John. He was a fan of the lean, athletic build, like Jak and Tali had.

Jak... John wasn't quite sure how he felt about her. Making out with her was great and all, and she was definitely an attractive woman, but he didn't think he loved her. John was fairly certain she didn't love him either, not in the traditional human sense anyway. To her, he was more or less the most ideal father she could imagine for her children. He could sort of understand her line of reasoning. While he was far from a humble man, John knew he could honestly say he was the best of the best. He wouldn't be an N4 officer otherwise.

He also was pretty certain he shouldn't feel guilty if he "cheated" on Jak. She had made it perfectly clear that krogan ideas of fidelity were very, very different than human ones. Her own father had produced over 300 children since the Genophage had been cured, only a fraction of which had come from Jak's mother. And Jak's own mother had given birth to children sired by other males. That was perfectly normal in krogan society, and Jak had made it painfully obvious if John wasn't willing to sleep with her, she was going to find males who would be willing.

Out of all the aspects of his relationship with Jak, that was the most unsettling to John. When he'd been younger, the idea that he had a girlfriend that was OK with him having other girlfriends had seemed pretty awesome. Until he realized that if he had a girlfriend, he wasn't going to want another one. He wanted just one woman to be his wife, his lifemate, and to stay with her forever, and she with him. With Jak, that wasn't an option. She eventually planned to have as many children as possible to strengthen her clan, by as many of the strongest males as she could find. That was the krogan way. But it wasn't John Shepard's way.

On the whole, humans were generally monogamous. There had always been subcultures that promoted or accepted polygamy or polyamoury, but they'd always been the exception, not the rule. John was becoming fairly certain he did not desire that sort of relationship at all. He figured he wanted kids, someday, anyway, and he only ever wanted to really love one woman.

Compared to him though, John knew that quarians were fanatically monogamous. There was a very good reason for that, aside from the usual cultural pressures. Quarians were quite literally incapable of casual infidelity or multiple relationships. Not because they didn't sometimes feel tempted to stray, but because of how their biochemistry worked. A quarian that became physically intimate with another bonded to them. Their bodies imprinted upon each other, and if they were ever to engage in sexual acts where bodily fluids were exchanged with someone they were not bonded to it would make them very ill. If they tried to keep multiple partners, it would kill them.

It was the quarian manifestation of the symbiotic nature of Rannoch's ecosystem, and factored into why quarians had such a difficult time adjusting to new environments. The greatest challenge for the "suitless serum" to overcome was the quarian symbiotic relationship with Rannoch's native microbial flora and fauna. Substitutes had to be created for each, and ways for the body to adapt foreign contaminates into the needed microorganism's niche had to be developed. In some cases nanites filled that role and the quarian body's natural allergic reactions were suppressed, and in others the immune system was simply reprogrammed to recognize more invaders as hostile. It was all very complex, and something that as a marine officer, John had to know. The quarians serving under him were his responsibility, and John needed to know how to best treat them and keep them fighting fit.

His thoughts strayed back to Tali, and he grimaced slightly. Whereas Jak would be fine with an open relationship, Tali would not. Quarians bonded for life, and separations were extremely rare. They became psychologically fixated on their bondmate, and their sexuality became single target in nature, finding only their bondmate attractive. This caused problems when a quarian's bondmate died. There was a cultural taboo on suicide among the quarians specifically because the temptation to die after a bondmate died was very strong. A quarian could re-bond after an extended period of time, but it was rare. Admiral Vexxu was an example of a quarian who had rebonded, and she was definitely the exception, not the rule.

That could be problematic, John thought as he stood outside the theater, gazing with unseeing eyes at the posters while Tali bought the tickets. He was a marine. Marines died. He was good, and in his opinion, he was the best. But that didn't matter. Gone were the days when a man's skill was tested against another on a battlefield, usually one on one, where the one who was the better warrior almost always won. Today, most marines didn't die facing an opponent they could see. They died when their transports were blown to shreds before they even reached atmosphere. They died from kinetic bombardments from a foe they couldn't see or hope to damage. They died to hostile creatures like thresher maws that came from nowhere and ripped them to shreds before they could react. They died in firefights too, but all it took was a half trained kid with a mass accelerator putting rounds down range at the wrong time to kill the most experienced and skilled of soldiers.

One of the most influential memories John had was of the time he had thought his mother dead as a child. He'd been devastated, to put it mildly. His joy at her return had been overwhelming, and John respected and loved his mother for the sacrifices she'd made while raising him. But he never wanted to have children while he was active duty. He didn't even know that he wanted a wife while he was in the service, at least not one that wasn't prepared for long months of separation and the possibility of a grim knock on the door one day. The kind Tali's mother had received so many years ago. And yet...

Swallowing his concerns, John walked up and put his hand on Tali's shoulder and smiled at her. "So, I heard you're going on Pilgrimage."

_**Vancouver, Earth - Tali'Zorah**_

Tali started slightly when Johnny put his hand on her shoulder. It wasn't a casual gesture, it was as deliberate as the question was. A peace offering and an attempt to restart their conversation. She looked up at him and nodded. "Yes, I am. And not the new sort of Pilgrimage. I'm leaving, and I won't come back until I find something that brings my people closer to returning to Rannoch."

"That's what I figured. I believe you'll succeed too. Your fathers felt pretty strongly about it. Personally, I've always thought it was tragic that the League hasn't done more to get Rannoch back. We should have opened up a dialogue with the geth a long time ago."

"A dialogue?" Tali growled. "What do you mean, a dialogue? The geth are monsters!"

Johnny shrugged. "That's entirely possible. But don't we owe it to ourselves, and to Rannoch, to at least try and resolve the problems without violence? How much good would it do our people to get Rannoch back if she's a smoking, uninhabitable ruin?"

Tali glanced at her chrono. They had about twenty minutes before the show began. They could get tickets later, the line was too long just now. "Come over here, you big bosh'tet."

Tali grabbed Johnny by the hand and physically dragged him over to a small cafe and sat down across the table from Johnny, glaring at him. "You said our people."

Blinking slowly for a moment, Johnny seemed to be trying to decide if what Tali said was a trap. Then he shook himself and nodded. "I did. We're one people now. Tali, I've mingled my blood with quarian blood. I know how much linking suits used to mean. To a marine, our bond with our brothers and sisters is just as strong. When you've seen someone take a grenade that was meant for you..." he cut himself off, and his eyes turned very cold. When he continued, his voice sounded like the void.

"Private Hinna'Tovosh vas Steven Hawking was in my squad. We were assaulting a smuggler base, one of our own. Human, quarian, krogan, a few turians and some batarians. They got twitchy, and someone threw a grenade right at my feet while I was negotiating. Before I could do anything, Hinna jumped on that grenade. It tore right through her, and saved my life. Her blood mingled with mine. I don't need to add that not very many of those smugglers made it out of that base alive. Certainly not the one who threw the grenade. And I would have done the same for her. Just like I would for any of my people. Just like any of them would do for me. We're one people. And in my mind, we have been since you held me each night while I cried myself to sleep when my mom was gone."

Now it was Tali's turn to feel her emotions swirl and her face heat. "I was very young. I don't even remember it."

"Probably not. But you still curled up next to me and held me. I think your first words must have been OK. To tell me it was OK when I missed my mom so bad it physically hurt."

"You did the same for me, if you remember," Tali whispered, looking down as tears welled up in her eyes. "When my father..."

Strong arms wrapped around Tali's shoulders, and she sniffed and looked up at Johnny as he knelt next to her. "I'm OK," she protested. "It's just hard. He's not here to see me. It was hard today, when I graduated, but thinking about a week from now..."

"I understand. You know I never knew my father. Still don't even know his name. I've never asked. Sometimes though, like when I graduated from N school, I wished he could have been there. Could have seen the man I am. Anderson was there, just like Phil was there for you. But somehow..."

"-It's not the same." Tali finished. She smiled and wiped away her tears with one hand. "Do you remember my 8th birthday party?"

Johnny frowned for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah. That was the one where I made an ass of myself arguing with Phil."

"He was the bosh'tet. The drunk bosh'tet. But that's not what I'm talking about. Do you remember what happened after the party?"

"Hm." Johnny rubbed the back of his head, his eyes going slightly misty. "Actually, I don't remember much about what happened afterwards. I was pretty tired from using my biotics that day. I wasn't nearly as good with them then."

Tali was crestfallen, but she supposed she shouldn't be too surprised. Johnny had been half asleep, and...

"But now that you mention it, I do remember a dream I had that night." He grinned sheepishly and shrugged. "I dreamed about an angel. The most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. She had this dark, silky hair, these big beautiful eyes, and her smile lit up the whole room." Coughing slightly, he glanced away. "This is gonna sound completely moronic and sappy, but she looked kinda like you."

For the first time in her life, Tali truly kissed a boy. She'd been kissed before, and had on occasion kissed back. None of those had been anything like this She was attractive and nerdy, which meant a positive horde of equally nerdy suitors had lined up to ask her out, and once or twice she'd even accepted. She wasn't quite sure what she was doing until she'd already grabbed Johnny's face and pulled his lips to her own, but once she started she didn't really want to stop. To her astonishment, instead of pulling away in shock, Johnny wrapped his arms around her and kissed back. And it was Tali who broke it off.

"You silly bosh'tet. That wasn't an angel or a dream. That was me. I came down with my suit off to show you what I looked like. And you remembered. Do you remember what you said to me?"

"No," Johnny admitted. "But I know what I'd like to say now. That you're the most beautiful creature I've ever seen, and I'm sorry I didn't tell you how much I loved you before I saw you without your suit. How much you've always meant to me. How you've always stood by me. How you've always believed in me, even when I was a snot nosed kid trying to show off his biotics."

"Close enough," Tali grinned. And then she kissed him again. They never did make it to the movie.

_Authors Note: _

_This isn't Tali's chapter. Tali's chapter is next chapter. This is the TALIMANCING FOREVERZ chapter. I would also like to point out this is the point where I open fire on all other ships and sink them, as well as any possible threesomes. Biologically, quarians just can't handle it, even with the mods and enhancements the League has. _

_Tali's chapter is next, after which, the events of the First Pan-Galactic War begin. _


	35. Chapter 35

_O people, weep for thy children_

_O people, cry for the lost_

_O people, morn for thy homes_

_O people, thy garden is lost _

_O children, lost and without a guide_

_Weep for thy parents that disown thee_

_The garden lies abandoned_

_Its caretaker has fled_

_The gardener has left her children_

_To play alone among her flowers_

_O people, why do you destroy your children_

_O children, why do you slay your parents_

_The garden is stained with blood_

_Blood of the gardeners, blood of the children_

_The garden waits for its maker's hand_

_As the children roam its streets, lost_

_O people, O children why are you lost_

_O people, your children mourn you_

_O people, why do you wander_

_The garden is here, it blooms in the shade_

_Your children have kept it, saved it for you_

_Return to your children O people_

_Come back to the garden_

_Let the blood of the past be washed away_

_Let the sins of the father be forgotten_

_Let the mothers no longer mourn_

_And the children play with their parents_

_The garden is in bloom_

_The garden is waiting_

_O people, return to thy home_

_-A Lament for Rannoch_

_**Vancouver, Earth -Tali'Zorah**_

_**July 3rd, 2175**_

"You stay safe out there. Not even Rannoch is worth your life. Come back to me, you hear?" her father gruffly ordered, enveloping Tali in a hug. "I'm proud of you. Rael would be proud of you. I know he would have wanted to be here."

Tali let the tears flow freely. After all, no one could see them from behind her mask. She was wearing the full traditional suit, along with a purple headdress given to her buy Auntie Raan, who was also crying behind her suit by the shuddering of her shoulders.

Tali turned away from her father and gave each of her siblings a big hug. Davey was trying very hard to cry and nearly succeeding. Sean was doing his best tough guy impression and informed Tali he would be taking over her room. She laughed and told him to take good care of her stuff. Leewie cried and promised to write every day and made Tali promise to write back. It was harder with Gola and Amberly than with the younger siblings, they were much closer in age.

"Don't get something too awesome, or they're be nothing left for me when I go," Gola half laughed, half cried.

"I promise not to take Rannoch back single handily," Tali joked, but that just made Gola cry all the harder.

Amberly was last, and she held out a briefcase for Tali. "This is for you."

Tali opened it and gasped, staring up at her sister in shock. "Amberly, how could you-"

"I've been saving for a long time," her sister grinned, wiping away a stray tear. "It's the lastest model. The GS-37 Savant. Salarian made. I know you always had a thing for salarian tech, even if it's imported so..."

"Thank you," Tali whispered, pulling Amberly into a hug before she could finish.

Next up was Kelly, who was sobbing louder and harder than anyone. "Why d'ya have to go Tali? We could've have gone to college together! You could be an engineer, and I'm a psych major! I'm even on a military scholarship, so afterwards..."

"Hey, you know why," Tali teased. "It's to find all those red wagons we've lost over the years."

Kelly smiled and nodded, wiping away a few tears. "Oh yeah. That reminds me." Reaching into her pocket, Kelly pulled out a deadly looking knife. "For you."

Taking the knife in her hands, Tali gasped softly. "Kelly this is-"

"For a Pilgrim on her journey." Kelly stated firmly, ruining her gravitas by hiccupping. "You don't get to ask me how much I paid for it or where I got it. You just have to take it."

"Thank you." Tali strapped the traditional yr'lin on her leg. It wasn't new, that much was certain, but she also was pretty sure that the blade was going to be good. Kelly might not be the brightest bulb in the closet, but her dad owned a small arms shop. He would have made certain it was quality.

She turned to her mothers and bowed. "Mothers, I take leave of your home, to wander the stars until I prove my worth. Upon my return I will not be the child you sent out, but a woman with a home of her own. Please, bestow your blessing upon me."

Both Kleeah and Marilyn extended their hands to Tali, resting them on her shoulders. "Go now, my daughter. May the Ancestors watch over you and speed your safe return. Keelah Se'lai."

"Keelah Se'lai," Tali echoed. Taking a deep breath, she turned to the last person. The one that it was going to be hardest to part with.

"This isn't goodbye," Johnny interjected before Tali could open her mouth. "This is good luck. Here." He handed Tali a heavy, well loaded pack. "It's got everything in it you'll need. Weapons. Ammo. A field repair kit. Training sims for your suit. Rations for two weeks in the field, water purification kit, space blanket, bedroll, tent, field glass, first aid kit with dextro medigel, emergency broadcast unit, and entrenching tool. And some other stuff I stuffed in there, just to be sure. I already gave Keenah his."

Tali smiled behind her mask. "Thank you, Johnny. I'll come back to you."

"You better. You already made me realize I was in love with you. It would hardly be fair for you to run off and get yourself killed. I'm the marine, that's what I'm supposed to do."

His words sobered Tali. "You stay safe," she whispered, hugging him tightly.

"I'm not worried about me. The corps has my back. May the Ancestors have yours." He bent down and brushed his lips across Tali's mask. "Keelah Se'lai."

"Keelah Se'lai." Turning away for the last time, Tali walked over to Keenah'Brezih, who would join her on Pilgrimage. Keenah's mother was a wealthy shipping magnet, and had even bought them a long range FTL capable shuttle. It wasn't armed, but it was a ship. In days past, the little ship would have been considered a worthy Pilgrimage gift on its own. Times had changed. No longer were the quarians paupers.

"Ready to go?" Keenah asked. He'd finished saying his own goodbyes while Tali was preoccupied with hers.

"Yes. Let's go find a piece of the homeworld."

_**Ruins of Nk'hat, Haestrom - Tali'Zorah**_

_**August 12th, 2175**_

Tali stepped out of the _Far Wanderer_ and shivered slightly. Not from the cold, although it was night and the temperature was subzero, but from where she was. Haestrom had been one of the bare handful of quarian colonies. Now it was all but abandoned. Occasionally geth patrols swept the planet, but they had easily avoided those. They'd come in ballistic and set down with minimal engine use. Besides, there had been no geth ships on passive or active scanners, so Tali was certain they were safe.

"Wow. Is this what Rannoch looks like?" Keenah asked, stepping off the shuttle behind Tali. He was as well armed as she was; no point in taking any chances.

Actually, Tali and Keenah were better armed than a company of mercs. What Johnny hadn't mentioned was that when he said he was giving them weapons and ammo, what he meant was that he'd pulled some serious strings and given them the BEST weapons and ammo, along with enough mods to make most shipboard arms masters jealous. Tali was carrying an N7 Crusader and a matching N7 Eagle, two of the most expensive and well-made weapons in known space. Keenah had an N7 Hurricane and an N7 Valiant. He claimed to be a good shot with his rifle and able to spray and pray with the best of them, but Tali wasn't sure.

Her auntie Raan had spent last summer training Tali in every weapon known to quarians and in the best ways to take down geth or organics, but Keenah's family didn't have a military background. Just how much use her fellow pilgrim was going to be in a fight was questionable. Tali was pretty sure that she could take a geth squad on by herself, but she didn't want to find out if she could or not. Especially not after talking with Johnny.

A few quarians had advocated making peace with the geth. They'd been known as Regrets, though it was more a euphemism for "traitor" than anything else. Johnny was the first human Tali had ever met who'd advocated any such thing, and he certainly was no traitor. He'd pointed out that the reason the geth had originally rebelled was because the quarians had tried to exterminate them.

"Sure, I agree AI's are a bad idea," Johnny had said. "But that doesn't mean we shouldn't treat them like people once we have them, not until they prove they can't be treated like that. The Bill of Sentient Rights is pretty clear, as long as you are a sentient, you have the same rights as anyone else. Why shouldn't that go for the geth?"

"But they're monsters, they slaughtered my people!" Tali had protested.

"Sure. And if they don't prove reasonable, we should wipe them out. They are synthetics after all. But we should give them the chance to prove reasonable first."

They'd talked more after that, and Tali had to admit, Johnny had a point. She didn't think it was much of one, but if there was a chance to establish communication with the geth and find a way to get back to Rannoch with no bloodshed, it might be worth a try. Or it might be better to just kill any geth you saw before it killed you. Either way, Tali knew she wasn't going to win a fight with the entire Collective, so it might be best to talk first if only to save her own skin.

"So what do you think we should look for?" Keenah asked, still standing on the shuttle's ramp.

"First, we stay together," Tali ordered. "Then we start combing the ruins, together. We don't know what's around here. Even if there are no active geth, there could still be dangers. Come on. We don't want to be out of cover when the sun rises. The radiation could kill us."

They poked through the ruins for a few hours, ultimately finding nothing at all. Most of the buildings contents were so decayed Tali began to lose hope, but every once in a while they'd find something half usable buried in a corner somewhere. They even found some design schematics for a very old model of geth buried in a crate. That got both of them excited. It wasn't exactly prime gift material they agreed, but it was useful. They made a copy and Tali put the original in her pack.

About an hour before the sun rose, they headed back to the shuttle and compiled a map of the area they'd explored. It was depressingly small, even compared to the size of Nk'hat's ruins. You never knew where hidden treasures might lurk, and Tali was certain that they were most likely to find some clue on how to topple the geth - or at least convince them to leave Rannoch - on Haestrom. She just had to find it.

_**Ruins of Nk'hat, Haestrom - Tali'Zorah**_

_**September 4th, 2175**_

"Tali! Tali come quick!" Keenah shouted.

Dropping the wooden fragments she'd been digging through, Tali hurried over to the shaft Keenah had dugout. The beam of his flashlight illuminated dozens of sealed crates, all marked with the symbol of the ancient quarian military. "Keelah," Tali breathed.

"We've hit the JACKPOT!" Keenah hooted. "Come on, let's crack a few of them open."

The crates turned out to contain mostly weapons. Not exactly the find of the century, but as they dug through, bits and pieces of the past were found among the ancient and worthless guns. A schematic of a quarian ship. Records for the quarian government before the Morning War. And details of the geth uprising on Haestrom itself. Tali didn't have time to fully examine them now, but she shoved them in her satchel for later.

They loaded up several crates of the most important finds on a hover trolley, and started back to their ship about a half hour before dawn. It gave them less of a safety margin than Tali liked, but they could make it. Just as they were approaching the shuttle, a mass accelerator barked, and Tali froze, then reached for her shotgun.

"Go for that and I'll splatter your brains on the pavement, suit rat," a turian voice ordered.

"Aww come on Odius. I haven't got to shoot anything in weeks!" a batarian laughed.

Slowly, Tali raised her hands, stepping away from the crates of weapons. "We don't want any trouble."

"Smart."

Half a dozen mercenaries rose from the ruins, and Tali swore silently. She'd been so wrapped up in their find she hadn't watched where they'd been going. At first she'd been more vigilant about ambushes, but as time had worn on she'd gotten sloppy. And mercs... She had expected geth, not mercenaries.

"What have the suit-rats brought us, Stevens?" the turian called.

Rummaging around in the crate, the human held up a old gun. Keenah had thrown it in because it was a model not in their catalogues. "Looks like salvage. Bet there's more where that came from. We certainly ain't found shit."

Good. Tali could probably promise them the location of the salvage, to be transmitted once they were safely in the air. That would buy them their freedom and- "It's back there!" Oh Keelah. "It's back there, in the ruins, please, just let us go!"

The human smiled. "Oh sure. Once we've had our little suit rat helpers load it all onto the ship."

Hours later, Tali gasped in exhaustion as she struggled to load yet another crate on the hover trolly. Thank the Ancestors the mercs had brought their ship close enough that it was a short trip. But it left them dangerously exposed to orbital scans. Tali had put the Far Wanderer underneath ten meters of concrete and covered with a camo-net to hide it from any prying geth, but these bosh'tets weren't even trying!

"Back off you jerk!" Keenah snarled, struggling to his feet after the turian had knocked him down.

The turian just pushed Keenah back down and glanced over at a salarian who was standing guard. "Hey, Belk, you think the female can handle the rest of this on her own?"

"Yeah. The hold is nearly full."

"Good." The turian pointed his gun at Keenah and let loose a full automatic burst. For a brief instant, Keenah's barriers held. But not for long. They were already drained and dying from constant exposure to the sun.

"Ancestors watch over you and guide you home," Tali whispered, averting her eyes from the growing pool of blood.

"You're lucky you know," the turian remarked, striding over to cup Tali's hands in his talons roughly. "I'm not going to shoot you."

"I'm grateful," Tali growled, wishing she still had her shotgun.

"Instead, I'm going to rape you to death."

Tali's mind froze. He couldn't... He wouldn't...

And then she was right. Odius neither could nor would. His head exploded as a deafening mass accelerator report filled the air of the ruined warehouse.

Tali fell to the ground, turning in time to see the salarian go for his weapon, only to be hit with a burst of automatic fire from behind her. _Johnny, it must be him!_ Tali thought, turning to see the face of her savior. Then she went stiff with shock.

The beings trooping into the ware house were about the height of a quarian. They had a single, glowing eye set in the center of their heads. They were emitting a series of electronic clicks and snarls, a sound that made Tali's blood run cold. Geth.

One of the geth took up station over Tali, its gun pointed in her general direction. The rest trooped down into the basement where the supplies were. Tali stayed motionless, staring up at the geth. It must know she was alive. Had to know she wasn't dead yet. Why hadn't it killed her? Why wasn't she bleeding out beside poor, stupid Keenah? She couldn't think, couldn't figure out what to do.

Another geth approached from the outside, its shield flaring from the extreme radiation Haestrom's star emitted. It approached the geth watching Tali and handed it a neatly wrapped package. What was it? Some sort of torture device?

The first geth knelt, laying its burden out before Tali. She goggled at it. It was her weapons, her omnitool, and her satchel.

"I- I thank you," Tali managed, looking up into the geth's flashlight.

Its head twitched, opening and closing like a flower's petals. It emitted more of those strange clicks and scratches. Then it held out a hand. Three fingered, like Tali's own. She took it. The geth helped her to her feet.

Tali was in a daze. What was happening? Had she really just been saved by geth? That was impossible. The geth were the enemy. They hated quarians. Quarians hated the geth. The two sides tried to kill each other. That was how it worked.

A new geth approached, and Tali sucked in her breath. This one was massive, a platform known as a prime. It extended its hand, holding out a small metal disk to Tali. Slowly, carefully, Tali reached out and laid her hand over the disk. The prime pressed it into her hand. She withdrew, holding the disk up. She gasped when the image of a geth appeared on it.

"Creator. You must leave."

"I, what?" Tali managed.

"You are one of the Creators. You must leave," the holo repeated.

"Um, OK. Can... Can I take my things? And the body of my friend? I'd like to be able to return it to his family."

"We find this acceptable. We will aid you in transporting the body. The Collective mourns the death of the other Creator. Now you must leave. You have caused a breach in the consensus. We have reached a consensus that you must leave. We have allowed you to remain for a time, and hope that you have seen the geth mean the Creators no harm. But you must leave."

Tali blinked, then nodded. "Alright. Thank you for saving me. I will depart in peace."

"We are grateful that we do not have to kill you, Creator." With that, the hologram faded, and Tali handed the disk back to the Prime.

She turned around to see one of the geth holding Keenah's body. Tali quickly gathered up her belongings, cradling them in her arms. She headed off for her ship, flinching slightly as the prime fell in beside her. But then Tali noticed something. She was walking in the Prime's shade. It was shielding her from the sun.

_Keelah, what is going on here? The geth are helping me. That's not what should happen! Why are they helping me! What does all this mean? Oh father, what would you do? What should I do? I just don't know..._

_**Dock 37-B, Omega - Tali'Zorah**_

_**September 15th, 2175**_

Tali watched as Keenah's body was loaded into the coffin for transport back to Earth. She'd listed him as killed by pirates. That was true enough. What she hadn't done was explain that he'd been held in the arms of a geth on a world once owned by the quarians. She hadn't told anyone that. She didn't know how. The entire trip had been a waste in so many ways. Tali hadn't been able to bring anything from Haestrom back. She had thought about asking the geth, but she had been too shocked, too numb to actually do so.

"That'll be five hundred citadel credits. Or six hundred league dollars. Either way, I don't care," the bored looking asari informed. Tali handed over the dollars and walked away. She'd already paid the fee to have the Wanderer put in long term docking. Now she needed to find a hospital of some sort. She need to get checked for radiation poisoning, and she didn't have the gear to do it herself.

She found a medical station named, appropriately enough, "The Clinic" in a public listing and wearily trooped down to the level it was located on. She was exhausted. She hadn't slept since Haestrom. Whenever she tried, she saw Keenah laying bleeding on the floor, or the hologram of the talking geth. She couldn't think straight, couldn't even see straight really. Her entire world seemed to be collapsing, and everyone she knew and loved was light-years away.

As she walked through Omega, Tali was astonished at the filth and crowding. She was so used to wide open spaces, to having plenty of room to avoid bumping in to people. Vancouver was a big city with a large population, but it seemed like every single one of those people were all shoved into Omega. It was dirty too, and in a poor state of repair with patches and rust everywhere. The League took good care of its equipment, and rarely did you ever see anything anyone used in such shoddy conditions.

The people were just as filthy, and they looked rather downtrodden to Tali. She saw every species of alien imaginable from the Citadel races, as well as the occasional human or krogan. She didn't see any other quarians, and Tali felt very alone. By the time she made it to the clinic, Tali was desperate for someone to talk to. Someone to help.

She stood in the entry way, glancing around nervously. It was packed with batarians, salarians, turians, asari, humans, and other species. She wasn't sure what to do, so Tali just stood there, vacantly gazing around.

"Are you alright? Are you injured?" an accented human voice asked.

Tali turned and found herself eye to eye with a human woman, long dark hair pulled back in a pony tail. To Tali's shock, the doctor looked like she'd just stepped out of a modeling magazine; despite her plain lab coat and lack of cosmetics, she was the most beautiful human Tali had ever seen. She was a few years older than Tali, but she carried herself with a poise and power that made Tali think she was much older on the inside.

"I'm, uh, looking for a doctor," Tali managed after a moment. "I think I got exposed to some radiation and-"

"Ah, I can help with that. Come with me, I'm the head physician here."

Tali blinked in surprise, but she followed the young woman to one of the small cubicles in the back.

"What brings you to Omega?" the doctor asked. "I don't see many quarians here."

"Pilgrimage," Tali replied numbly.

The doctor nodded as if it was natural for a quarian to tell her that, even though only a fraction of quarians went on Pilgrimage these days. "I see. Can you tell me what kind of radiation you were exposed to?"

"Um, ultraviolet and gamma radiation. I was on a planet with a weak magnetic sphere."

"Very well, hold still. This will only take a moment." The doctor waved her omnitool over Tali and nodded. "Yes, you do have some mild radiation poisoning. Can you take off your mask?"

Tali nodded dumbly and removed her mask. The doctor poked and prodded her for a few more minutes, then tsked. "You've not been taking very good care of yourself. You're suffering from exhaustion and malnutrion. When was the last time you had a good meal?"

Since before I watched my friend die, Tali didn't say. She hadn't been able to keep anything down lately. "Um, 10 days?"

"I see," The doctor paused in thought. "Wait here one moment." The doctor stepped out, and Tali sat with her mask in her hands, staring down at the floor.

After a few moments, the doctor returned. She took Tali's mask and slid it carefully back into place. "Right. Come with me."

She led Tali out of the clinic to a waiting air car and helped her sit down. Once she was inside, Tali felt a brief moment of panic and felt for her gun. But she'd left that in the ship. She didn't want to carry around guns, not right now. Not after seeing so much death. Not that it mattered. Tali was so weary she didn't think she'd be able to stop a kidnapping anyway, even if she was armed.

"Omega isn't safe for lone quarians you know," the doctor chided, climbing into the driver's seat. "I suppose it's as good a place as any to look for a Pilgrimage gift, but you shouldn't be wandering around unarmed."

Tali nodded, studying the doctor carefully. "Why are you helping me?" she finally asked.

The doctor was silent for a minute, then smiled at Tali. It was a tired smile. The smile of a person who had seen too much. Like Tali. "My sister is quarian. You remind me of her."

"Oh. What's her name?"

"Ori. I suppose she's not really my sister, not biologically anyway, but I love her, and I think of her that way."

"I understand. I have three human siblings. I love them just as much as my quarian brothers and sisters. They're family."

"Well, then you'll forgive me for babying you a bit. I'm Miri Goldstein, by the way. I'm going to take you to my place. I've got the medication you'll need there, along with some dextro meals I have stashed away. They're very tasty, according to my sister. She's not at home, I've sent her to live with some relatives."

Tali sat silently for a moment, then nodded. "Thank you. I'm Tali'Zorah. I'm sorry to bother you with this. I just watched my Pilgrimage mate get killed by pirates. It was... hard."

"Who?" Miri's eyes locked on Tali, and they were full of only one thing: Death.

"I don't know, they're dead. Some... strangers... rescued me."

"Ah," Miri nodded in satisfaction. "Good. Was it here on Omega?"

"No, it was on another planet."

Miri nodded, eyeing Tali curiously, but she didn't say anything more.

The air car set down in front of a ding apartment block, and Miri led Tali inside. She fed Tali a hot meal, then showed her to a bedroom that had obviously belonged to her sister. There was a toy doctor's kit on a table, and a chest that had to be filled with toys. The bed was quite large, and Tali collapsed into it, exhausted. She slept well, undisturbed by the specters of the dead or the electronic moans of ghosts.

In the morning, Tali begged to repay Miri's kindness.

"I'm good at fixing things, and I noticed your clinic was in need of some basic repair. Please, let me help fix it, I have to replay you somehow."

"That's not necessary," Miri stated, waving a hand dismissively. "I didn't take you in looking for a reward. I'm lonely here, I'm gone often and this place doesn't really feel like a home to come back to since Ori left. You can stay as long as you like, no need to go grubbing about the clinic."

"That wouldn't be right. A Pilgrim is suppose to earn her way, not accept charity. Besides, getting some work done would be a relief. I'll go mad, just sitting here until I'm well enough to leave."

"You really should get more than a day's rest before you go haring off to work," Miri scolded, sounding an awful lot like Amby did when she scolded Tali. "You're in pretty poor shape, Tali. As a doctor, I'd recommend at least three days' bed rest, and a week would be better."

The thought of lying in bed for three days straight put an icy knot in Tali's gut. Last night hadn't been too bad, but if she tried to rest without being exhausted, Tali knew that the terrors would return. "I'm fine, really. Just let me work, I won't push myself too hard."

Miri considered Tali for a few moments, then sighed. "I suppose if that's what you really want, I can't tell you no. The clinic could use the repairs. I've got some business I need to attend to, but I'm going to have my friend Patriarch escort you to and from the Clinic. The doctors will check in on you as well to make sure you're not pushing yourself too hard. And if you do make yourself sick, I'll sedate you until you're healed. Do we have a deal?"

Tali nodded. "Yes, of course, thank you. I promise I'll get the clinic cleaned up in no time."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Miri sighed.

About an hour later, Tali was curled up underneath one of the clinic's archaic medical devices, trying hard not to think about anything but the task at hand. She had spoken to the geth. She'd been set free by the geth. Perhaps, just maybe, there was a way to get Rannoch back without a war after all.

But Tali couldn't see what it would be. Instead, she lost herself in her work, running away from the ghosts of the past.

_Authors Note:_

_As some of you may know, Herr Wozzeck, author of Mass Vexations, contributes to a blog known as the Library of the Damned, where some of the more poorly written stories are lambasted by himself and a team of critics. Now normally, having your story featured in the Library is more of an achievement in infamy more than anything else, not not something I personally would have aspired to. Wozzeck has apparently been reading And the Meek Shall Inherit the Galaxy, and instead of thinking it was the worst AU ever (whew!) he actually liked it enough to write a really amazing critique of it on his blog. I highly encourage anyone to check out Library of the Damned, the writing team there is excellent and the reviews are entertaining, if a bit crude on occasion. _

_As always, thanks for reading! Next chapter, we have ourselves a roit and propa WAAAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!_


	36. Chapter 36

_War grows out of the desire of the individual to gain advantage at the expense of his fellow man.__  
__-Napoleon Hill__  
__  
_

_**Sovereign, The Far Rim - Saren Arterius **_

_**January 9th, 2176**_

Saren stalked by one of the many drones that served on board Sovereign. He tried to ignore them, but a few of them sent a chill down his spine. Turians were always metallic, that was a given. But these turians... They looked like the spirits of the damned. All spikes, exoskeleton stripped away to lay bare circuits and rotting flesh. The lesser servants called them Mauraders. Saren just called them his foot soldiers. They were the ones that resisted too harshly, whose minds had to be blanked to hope to control them. So the Vanguard... Improved them.

Saren touched his own metallic arm, a grim reminder of the dangerous path he walked. The Vanguard, who had declared itself to be Sovereign, had improved him. And he was improved in many ways. The arm granted him control over dark energy, far stronger than normal biotics would be. It was stronger and more durable than his organic parts, and Saren had used it to his advantage several times. But it also showed Sovereign's power. Its ability to totally destroy Saren if it so chose. And so, Saren would make himself useful. He would serve Sovereign, and in doing so preserve the turians from the worst of the Cycle's ravages. They would be given Ascension, their great reward. And Saren would be their leader.

Now Saren made his way to the shrine at the belly of Sovereign, and knelt to receive his instructions.

"I am here, Sovereign."

**IT IS TIME. YOUR PAWNS HAVE DONE WELL, HERALD. SOW THE SEEDS. SOON, WE SHALL REAP A MIGHTY HARVEST OF THIS GALAXY.**

"Yes, Sovereign. All of the plans? The bomb?"

**YES. THE KROGAN ARE NOT WORTHY. THEY ARE CHAFF, TO BE THRESHED AWAY BY THE SUPERIOR RACES. LEAVE THE MAJORITY OF HUMANITY INTACT. THEY HAVE PROVEN THEMSELVES WORTHY. YOUR PEOPLE AND THE ASARI ALSO MUST WEATHER THIS STORM. BUT ALL MUST BE WEAKENED. MY MASTER'S HOME MUST BE UNCOVERED. THE SCIONS OF THE HARVEST MUST RETURN TO THEIR FIELDS. **

"Yes, at once." Saren stood, and made his way out of the shrine with a wicked grin. Finally, after all these years, the League would pay for their treachery. The idiot asari and salarians would suffer for their ignorance. And those in the Hierarchy who had denied Saren his just rewards would be punished.

It was Harvest time.

_**The Kelphic Valley, Tuchanka - Urdnot Wrex**_

_**February 18th, 2176**_

"So what the hell are they? And what are they doing here?" Wrex demanded, glaring into his command console.

"Turians sir. They're in the uniform of the Blackguards. We caught scouts skulking around our fields. We tracked them down, they're excavating something in the ruins. Why we don't know, nor do we know what they are after."

Wrex snorted, drawing his shotgun. "Doesn't matter what they're after. They're not going to get it. Rouse my guards. I'm going to deal with this personally."

"At once Overlord!"

"And alert the League, and have our ambassadors on the Citadel make it clear this is completely unacceptable. Tuchanka is no longer within the Citadel's jurisdiction. This is grounds for war!"

Another functionary ran off with the message, and Wrex nodded in satisfaction. No longer were the krogan a weak people who could be bullied by other races at will. They were strong, and they had strong friends. He didn't know what sort of crap the turians thought they could get away with, but this certainly wasn't going to fly.

After a few minutes, Wrex's personal assault shuttle arrived loaded with Clan Urdnot warriors. New Gretchaw was on the other side of Tuchanka, but Wrex had come to the Kelphic Valley to check on the latest harvest. As he flew over the fields, Wrex smiled in satisfaction. It was green now, and fields and pastures full of hardy crops and herd beasts had replaced the barren dust and rubble. There were still large areas that had to be cleared away, but pockets of green showed from them as well. In time, Tuchanka would repair itself. The once ruined planet would be restored to what it had been in the days of legend, before the Long Dark the krogan had imposed with their nuclear fire.

Wrex didn't wait for his shuttle to touch down, instead leaping off when it was still 10 meters in the air. His warrior followed with shouts of pleasure. Good. He still had it. The Overlord might be an old krogan, but that didn't mean he was useless in battle. He stalked over to one of the ground commanders. "Well?"

"Overlord, the enemy is just up the dies of that rise. They're digging something up. It's turian in make, of all things. And it's old. Been here since the Rebellions at least by the layers of rubble and dirt on top of it," the commander explained.

"What's it do?" Wrex demanded.

The commander shrugged. "Dunno. But I figure if the metalheads want it, we should go take it from them."

"Damn right. Prepare the men! I want these turian bastards off my planet."

It didn't take long to rally the few score krogan warriors, and with a mighty roar, Wrex led them in a charge up the hill. Their enemies popped out from behind cover and opened fire, emitting strange metallic tones Wrex had never heard before. Their weapons were odd too, not the standard turian design. More powerful by the look of it; a some of Wrex's warriors fell. But the few turians couldn't hope to stand up to a krogan charge.

Wrex barreled up to the first turian and blasted it with his shotgun to drain it's barriers, then kept right on going and savaged it with his claws. He kicked at his fallen foe to make sure it was dead, then paused. He'd blown away the turian's armor, and the fluid leaking out wasn't the blue of turian blood. It was... Darker. Oily somehow. Now wasn't the time to contemplate that though.

He continued on, seizing turian position after position, easily overwhelming the handful troops they had present. It was odd, actually. Normally turians would fall back and regroup if pressed. They didn't break or retreat, but they did consolidate their lines and fight smart. These turians fought like idiots. They allowed themselves to be surrounded and overwhelmed, standing their ground and fighting until they were killed. None of them even tried to surrender. That was very odd. Even turian discipline could be shaken when it was obvious they were going to die.

Wrex knelt next to one of the bodies and pried off a helmet. What he saw shook him. It looked like a turian alright, but something was off. The eyes had been replaced by sensors and cameras. The head spikes were all wrong, and the metal skin looked brittle and diseased. Underneath lay a rotting flesh interwoven with circuitry.

"What the hell is this guy?" Wrex rumbled. He pointed at one of his warriors. "They're up to something. Try to take a couple alive for interrogation. And let's get to this dig site. I'm starting to feel real uncomfortable with whatever these idiots are doing." As Wrex turned away, the body melted into a pile of goo, unnoticed by the krogan.

Wrex hurried to the top of the hill, then froze as he crested it. Only part of the structure was visible, but Wrex recognized it. "Ancients, it's a bomb! Get down there and disable it! If that goes off, it will destroy the entire valley. That would-"

A timer counted down its final second, and the world turned to ash. The bomb that the turians had planted some 1200 years ago was not operating at peak efficiency when it blew, the years having somewhat dampened its effect. If it had been operating at its maximum, the very crust of Tuchanka would have been cracked, and the world would have entered a second nuclear winter. As it was, the explosion was observable from high orbit, a blinding flash of light that was clearly visible to the naked eye for five light seconds. Urdnot Wrex did not die alone. The entire Kelphic Valley, over 1,200km in length, was vaporized. The fallout would once again poison Tuchanka, and total deaths from the bomb would surmount 2,000,000.

The war it ignited would claim far more.

_**Illyria, Elysium - John Shepard**_

_**February 18th, 2176**_

John had to admit, Elysium was certainly living up to its name. The mountainous world had plenty of picturesque valleys and summits, offering some of the best hiking in the galaxy. The planet's low gravity and the relatively high oxygen content in its atmosphere helped you feel good all day. Right now John was enjoying doing just that. He was on a hunting trip for the local wildlife, a mountain goat-like creature known as a sherpa. He was cheating though, just a bit. Johnny believed in using every advantage he could over his enemy, even if it was as dumb and defenseless as a sherpa. So instead of a hunting rifle, he was packing a Rapier V and a N7 Eagle X with a biotic amp. Not exactly hunting weapons, but they worked.

"See, being in the outdoors isn't so bad, is it Shepard?" Alexandra Harrington asked, grinning at John.

He shook his head ruefully and smiled. "Yeah, guess you're right Harrington. Though I think you're enjoying this just a bit too much."

Harrington laughed. "What can I say? I'm a local girl! Still, even for a void-sucker like you, this has to be a nice way to spend your leave."

"Better than the bar crawl the others are in the middle of, I'm sure," John agreed. "And it was nice of your folks to put us up for our leave. Not a bad way to spend two weeks I suppose. Still..."

Harrington frowned. "Still no word?"

"No. Not to me anyway. She's sent out a few general letters to everyone, but she's not talked to me directly since she sent Keenah home."

"And Jak? I didn't hear about the breakup."

That actually got John to grin, though it was a tad forced. "Are you kidding? She offered to be a surrogate mother if we wanted human children, provided she got to keep half of them."

"Oh really? And have you discussed this with Tali?"

"Ha! No, that's not why she's decided not to talk with me. Hell Harrington, I think we'd need to go on more than a week's worth of dates before we started talking about kids."

Harrington grinned. "Oh really, what about-" He face suddenly went grim and she motioned for John to take cover as she dived underneath her rock.

John didn't hesitate. When someone like 1st Lieutenant Alexandra Webber Harrington told you to go to cover, you damn well went to cover. He came out of his roll into the thick, leathery leaves of the ophelia bush with his pistol at the ready, looking for hostiles. He found some. Ships, dozens of them, were descending on Illyria.

"Shit, batarians," John growled, recognizing the profiles instantly. They had gunships with them as well, and they were keeping close formation on the troop transports.

"Slavers?" Harrington asked, then shook her head and answered her own question. "No, too organized, to disciplined. And those markings... Those are Hegemony warships."

"No guesses as to why they're here," John growled. "Come on."

They weren't far out of town, and the two N Soldiers raced down the slope in a fair imitation of a sherpa, leaping from cover to cover. They hadn't gone more than 100 meters when a fireball erupted from the southwest corner of Illyria.

"There goes the garrison," Harrington stated, her voice flat and deadly.

"I'm sure some of them got out. There must have been some warning," John encouraged. He wasn't sure though. Their emergency comm units were not squawking, and he'd clicked it experimentally to see if it was receiving. All he got was static. Jammed then.

They made their way back to down in less than five minutes, even though it was nearly two kilometers. Running downhill in the light gravity and high oxygen content was a piece of cake for the two soldiers, and they ran into the settlement, taking cover behind a building.

"What's the plan?" Harrington asked grimly, raising her N7 Hurricane to her shoulder. She too didn't believe in giving sherpa's a fair chance, though she was probably carrying that in case they had run into one of the arktos megalos. The big predators resembled enormous feathered grizzly bears, though their dark green plumage made them look like a strange parrot until they unsheathed their massive talons.

"Get the civilians into the mountains. They all know them pretty well, and it's not hard to survive a summer night here in the foothills. Don't let them stop for valuables. Just get everyone out of town ASAP. On my six. We'll head for your parent's place first."

Harrington nodded gratefully, and she followed John deeper into the town. They came across several civilians and directed them out of town, but a few refused to go, mostly the armed ones.

"Hey, you're Stephanie's kid aren't you?" one of the civilians asked. "What the hell's going on?"

"The batarians are invading. Probably here for slaves. They can't hope to hold against the navy. You need to get out of town, now," John ordered.

The older man shook his head. "No, I've got a gun, and my wife and kids went shopping at the city center today. I'm not leaving them."

"You know how to use that, sir?" Harrington demanded.

"I've killed plenty of arktos with it, if that's what you're asking. Would mind killing a few slaver bosh'tets with it either."

"Right. Keep up with us. We can't protect you, but if you stick with us you might live," John ordered. "Move out."

They ran across their first batarian patrol not long after. There were six of them, and both groups stumbled into each other. John and Harrington recovered first, just like they were trained to. They started off with a singularity laid down by Alex and a shockwave from John, blowing the batarians off their feet. Then both biotics activated their barriers and charged, putting rounds into all the batarians until they stopped moving.

"Christ, I knew you were marines, but what the hell was that?" the civilian gasped.

"Biotics. Come on," Harrington ordered.

They met two more civilians, these two blessedly krogan who carried their large hunting rifles like sentients who knew what they were about. They were both armored as well, and while the suits were old and outdated, they offered better protection then the light jacket John was wearing.

"Fall in," John ordered, not even pausing to find out the krogan's story. "We're going to try and get to the city center and hit them where it counts."

"At once, warleader," the krogan saluted, and fell in behind the old human.

They were making their way across a relatively exposed plaza when a gunship roared overhead, and John dove for the meager cover offered by stone wall and raised his barrier. "Aim for the engines!"

Harrigton's Hurricane burped, and a stream of biotic infused rounds slammed into the gunship's barriers, rapidly draining them. The pilot swiveled, then opened up with his chain gun, aiming for the two krogan who made the biggest targets. The krogan shot back, their big guns punching holes in the gunship's armor. They split up, but the gunship tracked down first one then the other, ripping them to shreds with its big cannon. John hit the ship with a warp, and nodded in grim satisfaction when Harrington used her own biotics to detonate it. The gunship's port engine exploded, and it spiraled out of control to crash in a distant fireball.

John grabbed the quivering civilian man who'd nearly dropped his gun in shock when the ship appeared and hoisted him to his feet. "Come on! We have to keep moving or we'll get pinned down here!"

The old man nodded and scrambled after John. They had just made it to the relative safety of the cafe on the far side of the plaza when a batarian squad opened fire behind them. The civilian died almost instantly, and John and Harrington spun, returning fire as they continued to fall back. They didn't accomplish much aside from getting the batarians to put their heads down, but they managed to get to cover safely.

"We deal with these jokers or keep moving?" Harrington panted.

Grimly, John jerked his head toward the city center. "Keep moving. We have to break the back of these freaks."

The streets were empty except for the bodies, almost all of them Leaguers. A few batarians lay here and there where a krogan had made a last stand, but human and quarian civilians didn't have the penchant for going armed that krogan did. The bodies that hit John the hardest were those of the children. They seemed to be everywhere, little limp forms clutching guardians or lying dejectedly alone. Evidently, these slavers had come to kill, not to capture.

"We've need end this now!" Harrington spat, running beside John.

He nodded. "I hear weapons fire ahead. Sounds like they're assaulting the city center. If we can hit them from behind and take out their flanks, we may just give the defenders the break they need."

They encountered one or two survivors, and John urged them to get out of town if they could. Most complied, but three more krogan, two quarians and half a dozen humans who'd had been holed up in a small arms store decided to follow John and Harrington. They also ran across another batarian squad, but with the reinforcements they were easy enough to put down. Two of the humans were retired navy, and while John would have preferred marines, at least navy pukes new which end of a mass accelerator to point down range.

When they made it to the city center, John resisted to urge charge out guns blazing. The batarians had a line of civilians, mostly children, in front of them while they poured fire into the Illyria administration building. Every time someone in the building tried to open fire on them, the batarians executed one of the prisoners.

"Shit, what do we do?" one of the civilians wailed. They were all looking at John, expecting him to lead them to victory. Somehow.

"Lieutenant Harrington, take Melliard, Tikkias, Weyloc and Kim. Hit them from the south flank. See that heavy weapons cache they've laid down? Seize it and use it to blow up some of their transports. The rest of you are with me. We're going straight in to rescue those prisoners. Questions?" John paused and looked each civilians in the eye. "Good, move out people. We start in two minutes."

It was pure torture to hold his fire and get his ragtag militia to do the same, but John managed. They waited exactly 120 seconds, then John stood up and roared, "REMEMBER THE BELARI!"

He used his biotics to teleport to where the batarians were, moving at speeds too fast for an organic eye to track. His charge killed two batarians outright, sending them flying with the force of his impact. To his right, John unleashed a massive shockwave, sending half a dozen more batarians into the air. He spun left and pumped shotgun rounds into the batarians he found there as bullets scattered off his barrier. As his enemies closed in, John collapsed his barrier to kill three more, then charged away to another knot of batarians.

Everything was focused on survival, on killing the next enemy before they could kill John. He had to blank out what was happening to the civilians following him. They were getting cut to pieces, but they were drawing enough fire that John was managing to stay alive, somehow. He saw a squad of batarians open fire on their living shields, and with a roar of anger he charged again into their midst. His biotics were rapidly losing their potency as he tired. John bashed one's skull in with the butt of his shotgun, then blew holes in two batarians chests'. The last three he took care of by detonating his barrier again.

Taking a moment to catch his breath, John dived behind cover and lifted his canteen to his lips, chugging his high calorie energy drink. He was going to need the fuel if this fight lasted as long as he thought it would. Once he felt his biotics recharge, John reactivated his barrier and drew his pistol. Another gunship was coming in, and John fired at it as his hands glowed, feeding a taste of biotic power into the rounds as they left his pistol. They scattered off the gunship's shields, rapidly draining them. The gunship opened fire on John's position and he hit the dirt as the rounds chewed up the stone wall he was behind. Suddenly, the gunships weapon's fell silent as a bright orange fireball filled the sky. John glanced towards the heavy weapons cache and was relieved to see Harrington hefting a smoking rocket launcher as she ordered her troops forward.

Taking a deep breath John charged again, right into another squad of batarians that were trying to flank his friend. He took down two more batarians as rounds scattered off his barrier, but was driven back by the intensity of the batarians' fire.

"Shepard! Hold on!" Harrington shouted over the mayhem. Her Hurricane barked, and the batarians' fire slackened. Then, John heard a cry of pain; he jumped out from behind the pillar in time to see Alexandra Harrington take two rounds square in the shoulder. She wailed in agony, her entire joint disintegrating into a pulpy mess. Letting out a cry of fury, John loosed another shockwave into the batarians. He rushed to his friend's side, grabbing for the first aid kit.

"You're going to be alright Alex, just relax," John panted as he desperately applied medigel to the gushing wound. Unlike in the vids, John knew that shoulder wounds were serious. A human shoulder contained three bones and three joints with ten major muscles. Rebuilding a shoulder was a long, painful process, and not a wound someone could recover from quickly.

Instead of responding, Alex foamed at the mouth, her eyes rolling back in her head as she began to violently shake. John's blood ran cold; they were using toxic rounds. Illegal in both Citadel and League space, toxic rounds delivered a dozen strains of lethal viruses that quickly burned through the immune system of anyone hit by them. League marines had bio-antidote packages to help deal with the dangers, but obviously Alex's had been overwhelmed.

John stood as his friend's shudders abruptly abated. He brushed a quivering hand across her eyes, tears leaking down his face as his body shook with rage. The world turned red. He forgot about saving the civilians. He forgot about fighting for the colony. Alexandra Harrington had been one of his nearest and dearest friends. She had died saving his life. The only way for a debt like that to be repaid was for the entire world to drown in blood.

John threw himself at the batarians time after time, ripping them apart with his biotics or blasting them to bloody bits. He was a maelstrom of destruction, never resting, always moving forward. He didn't know how long his rage lasted, or how many batarians he killed. The answer was not long enough, and never enough. All he knew was that eventually he sank to his knees, exhausted. The courtyard was empty except for the dead. Piles of batarians were everywhere, but so were the bodies of humans, krogan, and quarians. He didn't see any other living being, and his weapon finally lowered to his side as he quivered with exhaustion.

Hearing rapid foot falls, John rose to his feet, slowly turning and pointing his pistol at the source of the sound.

"Holy shit, someone's alive! I need a medic here right now!"

The pistol fell out of John's hands as he sank back to his knees.

"Who the hell are you? What happened to all these batarians?"

"First Lieutenant John Vanderloo Shepard, service number N-5923-AC-2826," he gasped. "Do I stand relieved?"

"The cavalry has arrived Lieutenant. You can relax now. Those murdering four eyed bosh'tet's are all dead."

"By Kalros, did he kill all of these himself?"

"Looks like it. Shit! He's blacking out! Catch him! Catch-"

Darkness closed in as the pain and exhaustion finally dragged John down.

_**Independent League Senate - Admiral Vexxu'Hackett**_

_**February 19th, 2176**_

Vexxu's eyes were dry, her voice steady as she gripped the lectern's sides. "Ladies and gentlemen of Parliament. Yesterday the League came under unprovoked and unwarned assault by the Citadel's forces. A dozen of our colonies were hit in a massive assault by Hegemony forces, while the turian Hierarchy carried out a despicable and cowardly act by bombing the civilian countryside of Tuchanka. Overlord Urdnot Wrex is dead, as are countless thousands of his people, and across the colonies, the death toll is projected to rise into the millions."

"This, is a direct and deliberate attempt to destroy the Independent League. I am here to ask you for a formal declaration of war, but in truth, no declaration is needed. The other side has attacked without warning, and their declaration was the destruction of the Kelphic Valley and the slaughter of innocents on a dozen worlds. Even now, our fleets have mobilized and are retaliating. We are now at war. May the Ancestors watch over us all."


	37. Chapter 37

_War is the unfolding of miscalculations.  
__- Barbara Tuchman__  
_

_**The Citadel - Councilor Aethyta**_

_**February 19th, 2176**_

"Explain yourself, Sapias!" Aethyta barked, barging into the turian councilor's chambers unannounced.

"I can't, but I assure you, I will shoot someone for this. Personally, if I can," Sapias thrummed, her eyes glued to a intelligence readout. "It was a holdover! An ancient precaution! One we didn't dare tell the League about, nor did we dare to use. Whoever authorized it, they WILL suffer. I assure you of that, Aethyta."

"Then you admit that the bomb was yours?" Aethyta demanded, her eyes blazing with fury. "By the goddess, we are not ready! Not by a long shot! A war now could destroy us! We're going to bleed for this Sapias. Badly. Make no mistake."

"I know. But there is nothing I can do. I've already sent a dispatch to the League embassy disavowing the action. This is their response." Sapias tuned the holo so the image grew large enough for Aethyta to read.

"Remember the Belari. Remember the Kelphic. Consider this your formal declaration, murderers," Aethyta read aloud. Then she swore long, colorfully, and passionately. "Is this from Arcturus?"

"No, this is just from Koris. But if he's this angry about it, you can damn well believe that Arcturus is going to be out for blood. We're mobilizing our fleets now."

"And we've already mobilized ours," a new voice declared.

Sapias and Aethyta turned to see a very, very pissed off Councilor Valern glaring at them. "Well. I never thought I'd see the day that the turians would be so blindingly STUPID as to actually use that bomb without informing their allies. You had to know what the response would be. Did you know you actually managed to get Urdnot Wrex? To the krogan, he's about the closest thing to a god they have, after a giant worm. By the egg, do you have ANY idea what this is going to be like? A thousand times worse than the Rebellions!"

"I wasn't aware of this. Neither was Primarch Ceezar. None of high command authorized this," Sapias snarled.

Valern snorted. "That's all completely irrelevant now. The salarian fleet is headed for Stargate as we speak. We have to pray we hit the League before their fleets launch. Because if they do, I guarantee that at least some of our worlds will burn. And I assure you, Palaven is first on that list."

_**Ship of the Salarian Union Dalatrass' Wisdom, Euler System- Admiral Sazzec Vass**_

_**February 19th, 2176**_

Admiral Vass stood on his command deck, radiating a sense of calm and poise that he didn't actually feel. Despite his facade, he was praying fervently to every Dalatrass he could think of that the stealth systems would hold up. Good numbers during testing were a positive sign, but Vass knew that the real test came during combat. And due to the pressing time constraints, his entire fleet had been forced to use mass relays into the Euler system feet first, which was as good as waving enormous flags that they had arrived.

Now they were under stealth and scattering in preplanned patterns, praying that they could get close enough to disable the mass relay leading to the Citadel races' home systems. Priorities were naturally Sur'Kesh, Palaven and Thessia. He'd dispatched task forces to deal with the relay pointing at Khar'Shan, but that wasn't critical. While the batarians were important to the Citadel, they were not vital like the major races were. That, and they'd dug their own grave with their ill timed assault on the human colonies. How they had managed to scrounge all those ships was a mystery to the STG at the moment, but they were going to find out, one way or another. Hopefully, they wouldn't have to kill too many batarians first.

"Sir!" one of the bridge officers called. "The squadron dispatched to the Kher'shan relay just tripped over a League frigate laying doggo! They're being painted by active LADAR. "

Vass nodded, struggling to keep up his veneer of calm. Stealth systems did no good against active LADAR painting. They only hid a ship's emissions by storing them in massive capacitors and heat banks. Against active scanners, they didn't do much.

"Very well, have them break off and-"

Vass' jaw dropped as the carrier leading the Kher'shan squadron exploded into tiny fragments. Within moments, her two dreadnaught escorts did the same.

_**ILS Olympus - Admiral Han'Gerral**_

"Three direct hits sir," the Olympus' tactical officer reported. "All targets destroyed with a single hit."

"Very good. That should give them pause. Now we just have to find those other three squadrons," Gerral calmly replied. Inside, he felt a gut twisting mixture of exultation at the success of the three new Olympus Class Super-dreadnaughts and worry that they'd only found what had to be the smallest of the four squadrons. The others had literally vanished into empty void. It was only pure luck that the Niagolon had been in the path of the squadron they had found.

_Damn the Citadel and their stealth systems! _Rael raged inwardly. He had known they were puting them on frigates, and by extension maybe cruisers and fighters too, but dreadnaughts and carriers? Intel had really fumbled that one. Not that Gerral could blame them too much. He wouldn't have believed it was possible to make a ship that size invisible to long range scanners. Now he knew it was entirely too feasible.

"Keep up the search! If they destroy those relays, our chances of striking at the Citadel's heart go right down the tube!"

_**SSU Dalatrass' Wisdom - Admiral Vass**_

Vass felt his skin drying and cracking, and it was only his self discipline that prevented him from nervously scratching at it. There was no weapon in the known galaxy that should be able to shatter a carrier's or dreadnaught's barriers and take them out in a single hit. Or at least, the Salarian Union hadn't known of any such weapons. Obviously, the League possessed them. Vass had run the numbers on the magnitude of firepower that would be needed to do that, and he did not like the answers he was coming up with.

And whatever it was, either its rate of fire was ridiculous, or the League had more than one. The three ships had been destroyed within seconds of one another, and Vass' ships hadn't detected any League units in the area aside from the frigate. There was no way that the League had managed to cram that much firepower into a frigate, was there? No, of course not. But the only other emissions detected that resembled a weapon discharge had been from the League formation that was over thirty light seconds away from the destroyed squadron. That was much too far for a successful shot...wasn't it? Vass wasn't quite certain about that.

"Coming up on the Sur'Kesh relay, Admiral," the helm reported.

"Hold fire until all units are within optimum firing range," Vass ordered. "Our first attack MUST be successful. Pass similar orders to all other squadrons via tight beam burst."

"Aye sir."

The minutes slowly dragged by, and Vass continued to observe the readouts. That League Squadron was sitting relatively equidistant from each of the relay's Vass was targeting. But that was absurd. They were about 45 light seconds away from the relays. Even accounting for the fact that Vass' own units were going to engage at five light seconds away, that meant that they were going to be at least 40 light seconds from Vass' units. By the time they could get close enough to engage, it would be too late. True, each relay had some fixed defenses and mobile units nearby to engage Vass' ships, but they couldn't hope to stop him before he crippled the relays.

Unlike the relays constructed by the ancients, the League relays, and the Citadel ones for that matter, lacked the molecular shielding that was impervious to nearly any assault. They would be devilishly hard to permanently destroy, but crippling them wouldn't be too hard. All Vass needed to do was to buy the Citadel's forces time enough to mobilize. And that would take only a few minutes of bombardment. The League ships would never get there in time, even with their super powered weapons.

Unless... Vass did some quick math. "Eggshells," he muttered. That was it. Somehow, those Leaguer bastards had figured out a way to extend the effective range on their weapons dramatically. Of course The way to do that was to make guns that could accelerate projectiles faster. To destroy a capital ship in a single hit, they'd need something like 40% or higher of lightspeed. If they could manage that...

"New orders to all ships!" Vass snapped, glancing at the clock. It was going to be close with lightspeed lag. "Carriers are to launch all fighters before the other ships open fire. Formations are to scatter, and no ship is to fire more than once before re-engaging their stealth drives and beginning evasive maneuvers before firing again. Assume the League has extreme range weapons capability, and that their forces deployed at the center are capable of hitting our forces from as much as a full light minute out."

"Aye sir," the comm officer said, transmitting Vass' orders.

Vass glanced at the clock again. It was going to be close. Very close.

_**ILS Olympus - Admiral Gerral**_

"Have the mobile units deploy and begin painting with active LADAR," Han ordered. "I think our enemy is about as close to our relays as we're going to feel comfortable with."

"Aye sir."

Gerral smiled grimly. Time to deploy his next secret weapon. Within moments, the ILS Amazon and her sisters, the first of the mobile relay platforms, began to deploy their drone wings throughout the space Gerral projected the salarians were likely to be in. He still need a solid fix to fire; even if he knew generally where they were it was still a huge volume of space. As destructive as a super-dreadnaught's main gun was, the actual shot needed precision guidance. Especially if there was a risk of hitting the very relays Gerrel needed to protect.

Within moments of the drones' FTL launches, their quantum entanglement communicators began to feed Gerral real time data on where his enemy was not. That was another nice toy the Citadel boys and girls didn't have. It was rather like a game called Battleship, one that Gerral had seen his young children play with their human friends. In Battleship, a commander had to fire blindly into the dark and pray that one of his shots struck true. Of course, a child fired randomly, and with little success. But Gerral knew that while a ship occupied only a very small amount of space, he didn't need to scan every cubic meter of void to find where it was. Only the spots where it was most likely.

"Sir, we have a lock on an enemy cruiser!"

"Dispatch FTL bombers and frigates. Hold the supers in reserve. Let's see if we can scare them into tipping their hand."

_**SSU Dalatrass' Wisdom - Admiral Vass**_

When fighters equipped with powerful LADAR scanners began to pop up all over Vass' plot, he knew he'd been had. But the game wasn't up yet. The problem now was that his enemy was most certainly going to find some of his ships. Once he did that, if Vass maintained formation like doctrine told him too, those blasted long range weapons would blow them all to bits as each ship was found in turn.

"Break formation now!" Vass ordered. "Wait thirty seconds, then open fire!" He just had to pray the other squadron leaders were bright enough to do the same.

As one of his ships was located and then seconds later swarmed by frigates and strike craft that seemed to come out of nowhere, Vass was past being surprised. Either the League had the best micro-jump capabilities he'd ever seen, or they had relays pointed right into their own system. That made a twisted sort of sense he supposed, if someone suspected his foes to have stealth ships. First send in those drones to locate them, then hit them with the real firepower. It wasn't going to be enough to stop Vass however.

The squadron opened fire sporadically upon the relay, outside the range of the enemy's fixed defenses, or so Vass hoped. He breathed a sigh of relief when those fixed defenses remained silent, but grimaced when a dreadnaught blew apart before it could slip back into stealth. Those League ships were deadly indeed. But they also appeared to have a limited rate of fire. Only three ships were destroyed, a cruiser and two dreadnaughts, one from each squadron. More frigates and fighters screamed in from nowhere and began to engage, preventing many of Vass' ships from reentering stealth. It was a good tactic, but one Vass was actually somewhat prepared for.

"Get those flak boats in there!" Vass ordered, and grinned evilly. The flak boat was a salarian invention that had been quietly picked up by all of the major Citadel races. Basically, a flak boat was a cruiser with no main armament. Instead, it had massive banks of GARDIAN lasers. Those lasers were fairly short range, but the cruisers had oversized engines that could easily catch a strike craft. The lasers were also the more destructive ultraviolet lasers, instead of the standard infrared. Violet lasers were more energy intensive, and as such not used by most warships due to the massive heat they generated. But since the only armament the flak boats carried were the lasers, the heat wasn't much of an issue.

The flak cruisers broke stealth and began to carve a wicked path through the League small craft. They even crippled or outright destroyed several enemy frigates. The smaller League ships had bigger guns with longer ranges, but by jumping right into the flak cruisers' teeth they denied themselves that advantage. A GARDIAN laser could cut down a frigate almost as easily as it could a fighter or bomber if they got close enough.

Vass watched his readouts carefully. He was counting the time between his larger ships' sudden demises. It appeared that the League super weapons were firing about once every 43.5 seconds. Slow, compared to conventional main armaments, but the trade off was that they only needed to fire once every 43.5 seconds. Anything that powerful could fire once every couple of minutes and Vass would have found a use for it. If his own ships hadn't been in stealth, the salarians would have been torn apart by those monsters long before they entered into their own weapons' effective ranges. The relays themselves couldn't maneuver, but they did have slaved kinetic barrier "rocks" that could block a shot if given enough time to interpose themselves.

As the three relays pointed at the Council's homeworlds' blew apart, Vass nodded in satisfaction. "Get us out of here. We've done what we came for. No need to sit under those guns any longer."

_**ILS Olympus - Admiral Gerral**_

Gerral snarled with anger as his prey slipped away from him. Tactically, the battle had been a one-sided success for the League. They'd lost only a few dozen frigates and about a hundred drones. The salarians, on the other hand, had lost eight of their dreadnaughts, six carriers, twenty-six cruisers, fifty-eight frigates, and countless fighters and bombers. A crippling blow that would sap them of a great deal of their strength, not to mention essentially forcing the salarians out of the war.

Strategically , it was a clear salarian victory. They'd crippled the Palaven and Sur'Kesh relay, and reduced the Thessian one to a faintly glowing minor star that had destroyed all of the fixed defenses nearby. The loss of life there had been extremely heavy, though still not as bad as what the salarians had suffered. Gerral estimated that the League's losses would number somewhere around 3,000 once everything was said and done. The salarian forces had suffered over ten times that amount. They had lost over 60,000 personnel with the destruction of so many ships.

But that wasn't what mattered. What mattered was that now, the only path the League had into the heart of Citadel space was through the Kher'Shan relay. And that meant Gerral had a pretty good idea where his fleet would be headed next.

_**The Hollows, Tuchanka - Urdnot Jak**_

_**February 20th, 2176**_

Jak wept openly. The krogan culture didn't frown on displays of raw emotion, and right now, she felt like crying. Her father was dead. Killed by turians along with hundreds of thousands of Jak's people when the turians turned the Kelphic Vally into a funeral pyre. Jak could see the destruction from where she stood on the steps of the Hollows. Smoke still rose from the massive crater that had once been the heart of krogan agriculture.

Turning to the silent assembly of krogan, Jak glowed blue as she used her biotics to lift herself into the air and point at the wreckage. "There lies the resting place of Urdnot Wrex, first Overlord of Tuchanka, savior of the krogan people. He died in glorious battle, with the corpses of his foes at his feet. But he did not fall honorably. He was struck down by treachery and cowardice. By the turians. By our enemies!"

Jak's face split into a vicious snarl as she flung her arms wide. "Hear me! Children of Tuchanka! I swear to you a Blood Oath! The Oath of Vengeance! On the grave of my father, on the grave of my forefathers, I swear to you that I shall not rest until the Citadel has paid for their crimes! Until their blood flows like water and their own planets are reduced to the ruin they have visited upon us! I shall repay them their crimes against those we have sworn to protect on Mindour, Elysium, Watson, and every world their filth has desecrated! For every krogan they have slain, I shall slay four of their own! For every human or quarian they have killed, I shall kill eight of their own! This I swear to you!"

Jak slowly lowered and glared out at the crowd. "Which of you shall pledge yourself to me and aid me in fulfilling my Oath?"

She was greeted with a roar of primal anger and rage that Kalros herself would have approved of. Jak nodded in satisfaction and raised her hand for silence. The crowd hushed, though its angry rumbles sounded like dull thunder before a tempest.

"As a public sign of my Oath, I ask that the Shaman of Tuchanka, my mother, and mate of Urdnot Wrex, will carve it into my flesh, that all might know that I bear the pain of Tuchanka, the pain of the krogan people, and that I shall not rest until my oath is fulfilled. Any warrior that wishes to follow me must do the same. We are the Fist of Vengeance. No ties of clan shall bind us to each other, but we are krantt. We go into battle to give rest to the angry ghosts of the Kelphic and the scarred worlds."

Ma stepped forward, her own eyes deep set in mourning. Those same eyes blazed with anger and approval. Normally, Urdnot Bakara was a voice of restraint and moderation. Now she cried for blood louder than any other. She had loved her mate deeply, had known it was thanks to him that her peoples' hope had been restored. And she wanted an ocean of blood in which to drown her enemies.

The process of the Oath's inscription was incredibly painful for Jak. It involved injecting the colored dyes directly into her skin. Bakara had been forced to modify the normal dyes she used, as many could have been lethal to Jak. Instead, she was using dyes supplied by a human tattoo artist. The patterns she painted on Jak's skin were also miniature compared to what they would have been on a krogan, but their meaning was the same. Jak knelt, hands on her knees for six hours as her mother inscribed her oath upon her skin. It was painful in the extreme, and Jak didn't try to hide her tears of anguish. She wept for her dead people. Her pain was her people's pain. She would bear it with pride.

When she was finally finished, ma helped Jak to her feet. Many other warriors were kneeling, receiving their own marks. Jak nodded in satisfaction. "We move out in 10 hours. Those that have not finished the inscriptions may have then done later. Blood is more important than formality now."

Ma nodded in approval. "Agreed. I will stay here and control the clans. I do not think it will be hard. Right now, it will consist of pointing them at the Citadel, giving them a gun, and growling 'kill.'"

"Good. We will need many warriors. I have seen the reports. The League is fully mobilizing. The war we have long awaited is here. I just wish we had struck first."

_**Afterlife, Omega - Tevos the Exile**_

_**February 20th, 2176**_

Reclined in her chair, Tevos continued to stroke the sphere. It always told her what to do. She could hear its voice even when she left its presence, but she always felt best when she could hold it. She frowned worriedly. She had wondered if Saren's suggestion to have her pirates repaint themselves in Hegemony colors had been appropriate. She had plenty of batarians of course, the Hegemony had even supplied her with plenty of actual batarian military craft. But she'd done it.

When Saren had told her to launch an all out assault on the League's frontier worlds with her shadow army, Tevos had resisted at first. But then the sphere had calmed her. Showed her the wisdom of Saren's words. Saren was wise. He served Order. She should listen to him. Of course. It had been the right thing to do. She had to crush the League. Her brow furrowed. But what of her own people...

_they will be given true joy in perfection_

Of course. This was the path to perfection. Thresh the Harvest, so that only the grain remained and the chaff was borne away by the winds. Soon those glorious winds would come and herald a new age, one of light and beauty. A tear trickled down Tevos' cheek. Her daughter would grow up in safety. She and Aria could have a life together, where they could get away from this filth. They could be one in their love. In perfection. For all eternity. Together. How beautiful.

"Tevos, I don't know what the hell you think you're doing, but you've managed-" a turian voice snarled, and Tevos looked up to see Flavus Vakarian standing in her doorway with a shocked expression of horror that melted into a splayed mandible grin. "-to please her immensely. Well done."

Tevos smiled vapidly at Flavus. "Really? Does Aethyta serve Order as well?"

"Of course. Aethyta serves the Cycle as I do. Do you know of any others who seek Ascension?" Flavus asked smoothly.

"Oh, I think we all do," Tevos murmured dreamily, stroking her sphere. "Would you like to hold this? It always makes me feel better."

"I have one of my own, thank you. The Masters gave it to me themselves."

Tevos smiled rapturously. "Oh, that's wonderful. Aria gave me mine. I don't think she serves the masters though. It was just a bauble to her. Too bad. But she'll soon see the beauty of Order. We'll be together in perfection forever."

"Of course, of course. Good job on causing a war between the galaxy's powers. That will be sure to cripple them."

"I know!" Tevos sighed. "It's so wonderful! Just think, soon there will be no more war. No more chaos. Only order. Only perfection."

"Yes. Long live the Reapers."

"Reapers?"

"Never mind. I must be going, there is much to do to usher in this glorious new age. Tevos."

"Flavus." Tevos waved goodbye, then went back to into peering into the depths of her sphere. It was so beautiful.

_**The Clinic, Omega - Tali'Zorah**_

_**February 20th, 2176**_

In the months that Tali had been on Omega, she'd settled into a routine. Go to the clinic. Create miracles of engineering from nothing with nothing to keep its battered old machinery running. It was actually rather exciting. This was what the quarian people had done when they'd lived on the fleet. Never before had Tali needed to do so much with so little. And the constant battle to keep everything in good repair ate of Tali's time. Which meant she only had to see the geth in her nightmares. Only had to think about how she could continue her pilgrimage as she drifted off to sleep. That was how she liked it.

There were problems with that of course. She hadn't written Johnny in months. How could she? She couldn't very well tell him, "Hey, you were right, the entire belief that the geth were evil is totally bogus! I should just come home now and give up on Rannoch. Or maybe we could live with the metal monsters that nearly caused the extinction of my people in peace! Yay!"

Her hands trembled slightly as her mind wandered. She was just arriving in the clinic, and hadn't had a chance to get to work just yet. As she opened the door, she bumped into Patriarch, the head of the krogan who were Miranda's friends.

"Oh, hey Patriarch. How are you-"

"Tali!" The old krogan grabbed and hugged her tightly. "Thank the Ancients! I thought I had failed. Where were you last night? I couldn't find you at the apartment!"

"Oh. I couldn't sleep. I went for walk, then slept in an airduct somewhere. It was very warm. I was fine. I even got my weapons with me, see? Just like you told me to."

"Couldn't- You mean you don't know?"

Tali blinked in confusion. "Um, no I don't know. Know what?"

Patriarch started to answer, but then shoved Tali behind his back and drew his weapon. "Get back Spectre. The quarian is under my protection."

"Stand down Patriarch. I need your help," a turian voice called.

Tali peeked around Patriarch with her own shotgun in her hands. The turian was well armed and armored, and he walked like Johnny did; dangerously. Like he knew how to kill you a dozen different ways and wasn't afraid to do it.

"Who's the quarian? Is she good with a weapon? I might need her. I've got to get a message to the League," the turian explained.

Tali stepped into full view. "I am Tali'Zorah nar Rayya. I am on Pilgrimage here on Omega, and I have sworn not to return to my people until I find something that can help us reclaim our homeworld."

"Zorah?" Flavus asked, starting slightly, then he shook his head. "Actually, that helps. Where's Miri?"

"Inside," Patriarch growled. "Why?"

Flavus' mandibles lowered in resignation. "Because. Tevos has been subverted. She's working for the enemy now. I've got a long, sad story to tell, and not much time to do it in. I swear on the Spirit of Clan Vakarian I mean neither of your charges harm, Patriarch. In fact, I intend to save them."

Slowly, Patriarch lowered his weapon and motioned for Tali to do the same. "Very well. But I've got my eye on you. Get inside."

Tali went inside first, and to her shock found every krogan, quarian and human she'd seen on Omega crammed inside. And they were all armed too, all of them that could hold a mass accelerator. "What's happening?" Tali whispered to Patriach.

"The League and Citadel are at war. They hit the colonies, blew up a major settlement on Tuchanka. It's bad."

Tali felt her heart sink. The League races were heavily outnumbered here on Omega.

"Patriarch, get me to Miranda. Bring only Zorah. What I have to say isn't for general knowledge," Flavus ordered.

Patriarch studied the turian, then jerked his head toward the back. "Come on."

As she made her way through the press of the crowd, Tali's mind reeled from the news she'd just heard. War. That meant Johnny was in danger. She didn't even know where he was! And her family, they were on Earth, but if the Citadel had hit Tuchanka... She wormed her way through the press of bodies and squeezed into a cubicle after Flavus.

"Flavus." Miri's voice was flat and tired. "What are you doing here? Did Tevos send you? Does she want these people killed? I'm not willing to do that. They're innocents. I'll keep them contained, away from vital areas. If we're not careful, this could turn into a bloodbath. Some of them want Citadel blood. If you weren't with Patriarch, some of them might have tried to kill you."

"That's the least of my worries," Flavus sighed, his mandibles drooping. "Miri, do you know what a Reaper is?"

The human blinked, then shook her head. "No, I've seen the name attached some high security documents, but I don't have the clearance for that."

"You do now. I'm deputizing all three of you as Spectre Agents, with the full authority of the Citadel Council."

Tali felt her eyes widen. This turian was a Spectre? If the League and Citadel were at war, why wasn't he arresting them?

"This is a Reaper," Flavus stated, holding up a hologram of what looked like a metal cuttlefish. "And they're the real enemy."

As the Spectre wove his tale of horror and deception, of how the Reapers had caused the extinction of the Protheans and countless others species for longer than Tali's mind could fathom, of how they could subvert mind and turn others to their cause, horror boiled up inside of Tali. These Reapers were a serious danger to the galaxy if even half of what Flavus claimed was true. And he was claiming a great deal. Then he came to the part where Tevos had been duped by the Reapers. How she was now their pawn, and how she'd ordered the attack on the League. How she'd probably used her knowledge as a former Citadel Councilor to learn of the Tuchanka bomb and send mind controlled agents to detonate it.

As Flavus finished, Tali straighten. She was the daughter of Rael'Zorah. Now was her people's hour of need. She might not know how to deal with the geth, but here was an enemy she could save her people from. They wouldn't lose another home to this stupid war.

"So, what are we going to do about this, Spectre? How can I save my people?"

_Authors Note: _

_I just want an extra moment to thank all my readers today. Last chapter, meek received over 100 reviews and has become the most followed Mass Effect story on FF. To have such an amazing response to my story as an author leaves me humbled and feeling blessed that you guys and gals are enjoying this that much. _

_I also want to assure everyone that yes, I am working on the sequel. Meek is going to be finishing up in the next month or so, and we'll start the next chapter around a month after the end of meek so that I have time to really proof read and edit (something I didn't do with the first half dozen or so chapters of Meek). _

_As always, thanks for reading!_


	38. Chapter 38

_War is very simple, but in War the simplest things become very difficult._

_- Carl von Clausewitz_

_**Reldona, Thessia - Liara T'soni**_

_**February 21st, 2176**_

"- and from everything Tyri has been able to dig up, the Council is actually telling the truth, and so is the League. The League WAS attacked by the shadow army Tevos has been building in Omega, and by forces of the Batarian Hegemony. However, it's fairly obvious that while the bomb on Tuchanka was planted by the Hierarchy, no one in their chain of command gave the orders to detonate it. Nor were any actual turian Blackguard forces in on the operation, just turians dressed like them- as far as we can tell."

Liara looked up from her data pad and scratched the her head tentacles. In the time since she'd discovered Tyri's betrayal, Liara had been busy. For one thing, her house was now connected to the only AI in Citadel space. It had been extremely difficult and dangerous, but Liara had managed to hook up a communicator from her labs to a receiver at her home. She'd also secured her house, so that the bugs now picked up only what she wanted them to and painted a picture for the justicars that she, Vendetta, and Tyri controlled.

The most important change was that Liara and Tyri were now on the same page. Tyri worked for her, transmitting to the League exactly what Liara and Vendetta desired her to. Liara knew she wasn't the only member of the asari race preparing for the Reapers, but she was the only one who realized how near that peril was. According to Vendetta's calculations, the Reapers were due to return within Liara's lifetime. That might be as short as a few months from now to as long as a few centuries, but the danger was imminent.

Vendetta's small image flickered before her, and the prothean AI frowned. "Then it has already begun."

Liara felt her blood freeze, and her eyes widened in shock. "No, it can't be, the Reapers couldn't-"

"Open your eyes Doctor!" the AI snapped. "Soldiers suddenly cease to obey their commander's orders. Entire units turn traitor. Those in trusted positions suddenly sabotage their own operations. This is what happened to my people. Indoctrination."

"But when the Reapers fell upon your people, they came through the Citadel! They attacked in swarms; your estimates showed their numbers to be in the millions! This is subtle. Quiet. How could the Reapers be responsible for this?" Liara protested.

"There are a few things I have not told you," Vendetta admitted. "Not because I do not fully trust you, doctor, but because there is simply so much to tell and so little time to tell it in. If I had thought it relevant, I would have told you before."

Liara nodded in understanding. There had been times when she had known things Vendetta had needed to know had hadn't told him simply because he hadn't asked and she hadn't realized he needed the knowledge. It was natural enough. Though it had been disconcerting the first time Liara realized that even the protheans had been fallible.

"We knew what the Reapers had done," Vendetta explained. "Upon some signal, or when some predetermined criteria was met, they would transmit a signal of some sort and open the Citadel as a mass relay. I did not know how to combat this, my own project was to prepare the other races for the next cycle. This I have done. I had thought mine was the only project of my people's that had succeeded. But there were others. I do not know their locations or who was in charge of them. That would have compromised them if I myself had become compromised. One of those other projects was to prevent the Reapers from reactivating the Citadel Relay. Somehow, that project succeeded."

"But how does that explain the Reapers trying to spark a war between Citadel and League?" Liara demanded.

"Perhaps they simply seek to weaken you before their harvest begins. Your weapons are very powerful. The turians' new Thranx canons are more destructive than anything the Empire ever wielded. And those pale in comparison to the weapons that were used against the salarian navy by the League. Then there are your stealth drives. Those could allow your ships to sneak away and never be found by the Reapers. Hidden colonies that arose a hundred years after the Reapers left would cause problems for them. But we must know more.

"It may be that someone simply stumbled upon a Reaper wreck. The Empire did manage to cripple a few of them, and all our attempts to study the hulks that remained ended in disaster. The entire team would become Indoctrinated without fail. Your own people discovered a Reaper corpse some years back. Perhaps the League took it, and now the Indoctrinated are trying to collapse their own empire. I do not know. I require more data."

Liara nodded. "Then that's just what I'll find for you, Vendetta. Meanwhile, I'm going to have Tyri discreetly put this out on the net for the League and the Council. That the Reapers are behind all this. That might get everyone to stand down. Perhaps you could even come out into the open."

Vendetta shook his head. "I cannot reveal myself when Indoctrinated agents are running loose. I would almost certainly be immediately targeted. This is one of the reasons I have remained hidden. I thought it likely that some Indoctrinated agents could be seeded among your peoples. And, I also doubt that your people will readily back down from this conflict. It had been too long in coming."

_**ILS Ven'Doras vas Rannoch, Euler System - Admiral Steven Hackett**_

_**February 21st, 2176**_

"All ships, prepare for transit," Hackett ordered. He glanced around his flagship's bridge. The faces he saw were grim, determined. Everyone knew what was at stake. The survival of the League. The continuation of the human, quarian, and krogan species. But more immediately, revenge for Kelphic and what was already being labeled as the Skyllian Blitz.

Currently, Hackett was in command of Third Fleet, and had been given the honor of taking the fight to the enemy. Since the enemy in this case was the Batarian Hegemony, Hackett didn't have any of the new Amazon Class mobile relays or the Olympus Class super dreadnoughts. The League only possessed four mobile relays and five super dreadnoughts, and those were being held as a strategic reserve. If the fighting got too thick in the Harsa System, which Hackett only expected to happen when the turians or asari intervened, Second Fleet under Admiral Han'Gerral would deploy to reinforce.

"Transit," Hackett ordered, and he felt the slight jerk as his command's ships were gripped by the sole surviving STARGATE Relay and flung across the galaxy.

_**Peoples Glorious Vessel of the Hegemony Fist of the People, Sensor Specialist Groth Hogar**_

"Sir, the outer sensor platforms are reporting a massive influx of unknown vessels," Groth reported to Admiral Liaf'cipe. "They are on the vector our experts predicted the League would strike from."

Admiral Liaf grunted in acknowledgement. "Very well. Their strength?"

"Sir, nine capital ships, thirty cruiser weight, sixty-eight frigate weight."

"Ha! We possess ten capital ships, all mighty dreadnoughts! And we outnumber the League's smaller units at least two to one! Our simulations have shown that our own ships are superior to the Leagues in every way, especially those useless carriers they possess. How many of their capital ships are carriers?"

Groth checked his display and swallowed nervously. "Six, sir."

Unlike high command, which in Groth's opinion had their collective head shoved so fair up their collective asses they couldn't see or hear anything but their own shit, Groth knew that carriers were no joke. He also knew that the "simulations" Liaf spoke of told the admirals what they wanted to hear, or the sim techs found themselves on the sale block, or breathing through a new hole in their skulls. Which meant that either the Hegemony was grossly overestimating their margin of superiority over the League, or that margin of superiority was as much a myth as a batarian admiral's competence.

The only admiral who showed any skill at all was Admiral Balak, and he was a man Groth feared. Balak was in charge of Eighth Fleet and special operations. That meant that Balak was responsible for some of the darkest and nastiest secrets the Hegemony possessed. And Groth knew that the Hegemony had some pretty dark and terrifying secrets. Like all the hidden weapons of mass destruction on their colonies. Nukes, poison gases, viruses, and worse. Or the AI's they'd developed in secret and begun to deploy on their ships.

Groth wasn't sure how he felt about serving on a ship controlled partially by an AI, but there it was. Fist of the People was one of the first ships to have the targeting AI installed, and at the moment, Groth was actually sort of grateful for that. Supposedly, the AI would improve the dreadnought's defenses against strike craft. That was a good thing. He hoped.

_**ILS Ven'Doras vas Rannoch - Admiral Hackett**_

Hackett watched his display as the enemy units closed it. They seemed to have been expecting Hackett's forces, and had deployed their units so that Hackett would be caught between two of their forces. The nearer, Delta One, was going to come in range of Hackett's forces in only 14 minutes, while the other, Delta Two, was closer to 35 minutes out. That was good. They'd conveniently split their forces for him.

"Launch strike craft. Take out Delta One's screening elements, then go for their flagship. No pussyfooting around. I want these bastards' heads on a pike."

Hackett reclined in his chair and waited, watching as his wings formed up and deployed. They were the new Blod Gur fighter-bomber drones. Appropriate that the craft named for a krogan style of hand to hand combat would strike the first blow. The Ghost of Urdnot Wrex would be pleased. Blod Gur's were the latest generation of League QEC drones, armed with dark energy torpedoes designed to take down shields and the new EGGLAYER system to clean up the rest. Dark energy torpedoes were an invention of the Cerberus Skunkworks, and launched a short range, concentrated burst of dark energy that rapidly overwhelmed the kinetic barriers of enemy ships. It was similar to the disruptor torpedoes that had been in use for generations, but was vastly improved in shield draining capacity.

EGGLAYER was another revolutionary system which employed a single-use mass accelerator to launch a much larger than normal nuclear warhead at high speeds. After use, the tubes were discarded. Each Blod Gur carried four EGGLAYERs along with their torpedo generators, and could return to be reequipped after they had exhausted their armament. All their weapons were fairly short ranged, requiring the drones to pass within the extreme effective range of the standard Citadel GARDIAN Laser defense grid.

Of course, that was assuming the ship was turian, asari, or salarian. Against those ships, Hackett would have expected to lose a large percentage of his drones. That was an expensive loss that the League could ill afford, though it was better than losing a piloted craft. Drones were much easier to replace then trained personnel, and cheaper than a frigate or larger ship. Hackett wasn't fighting a navy of Big Three ships though. He was fighting the batarians.

_**PGVH Fist of the People - Specialist Groth**_

Groth watched as the tiny signatures of the League strike craft sped toward his brothers. He said a silent prayer to the gods for their safety. While Groth might not think much of the Hegemony leadership, he did believe in the batarian people. Most of the people on those ships were like Groth: Citizens who'd been conscripted into the navy. A Citizen's life wasn't that bad really. Sure, it wasn't as good as the life of someone in the Asari Republic say, but it was much better than a pleb's or a slave's. Like Groth, most of those batarians just wanted to stay alive.

As far as the League went, Groth naturally hated them. They competed with his own people for resources, and had stolen much that should belong to the batarian people. He didn't really hate them enough to want to go kill them, but Groth certainly wasn't going to feel bad about killing them when they invaded his people's home.

"Our ships are engaging the enemiy's strike craft," Groth reported, even though they'd been doing just that for about a minute and a half now due to the lightspeed lag.

Admiral Liaf chuckled. "I'm sure they won't last long."

As it turned out, Liaf was right, though not in the way he had probably meant. The Hegemony forces crumbled before the tiny League fighters. The screening frigates and cruisers were blown to bits or crippled as soon as the fighters and bombers, Groth couldn't tell the difference between the two on his screen, engaged them.

"The screening elements of Admiral Dewerc's fleet have been destroyed after inflicting losses on the League's force," he reported. What he left out of that report was that the losses they had inflicted had been minimal. At the moment, it looked like the League was trading fighters for cruisers on a 1:1 ratio, and trading for frigates at a 1:2 ratio. The League's favor.

For a moment, Admiral Liaf was dumbstruck. "What? Impossible." He glared at his own screen as if it was malfunctioning.

Silently, Groth gave his head a slight shake of disbelief. Was the fool really so dense that he couldn't see what was before his eyes? He continued to watch with a growing sense of panic as the tiny, angry, violet lights began to engage Admiral Dewerc's flagship.

_**ILS Ven'Doras vas Rannoch - Steven Hackett**_

"They've repulsed our initial wave, sir. It appears that the dreadnought's GARDIAN system and fire control is far superior to what we have. The electronic warfare is also surprisingly capable; we've lost a few drones to it."

Hackett smiled at Commander Shepard, his drone wing operations officer. They'd come a long way together since 314. He couldn't think of an officer he'd rather have at his side in this moment. "Well, we couldn't expect to have everything our way now could we, Commander? Recalibrate and renew the assault."

"Aye, aye, sir," Shepard agreed, and turned her attention back to her own panel as she issued orders to her drone pilots.

Hackett frowned slightly, rubbing his chin as he did so. What could have bolstered the batarian's electronic warfare capabilities and their targeting to such effective levels? It didn't really matter in the end. His ships were rapidly closing with the remains of Delta 1. Their five dreadnoughts hadn't taken much damage yet, but the rest of their forces were broken and bleeding.

Hackett's own force only had three dreadnoughts, but while they were not super dreadnoughts, they were more powerful than what the batarians were fielding. Compared to the original SSV Everest that had rescued Hackett at 314, these dreadnoughts were far more durable, with greater effective ranges and firepower. The batarian dreadnoughts could manage to accelerate a 17.8kg slug to .8-1.2% of light speed on their main guns every seven seconds. A League dreadnaught could do 1-1.5% of light speed every five seconds with a 20kg slug. On average, that meant that a batarian dreadnought could deliver about 19 kilotons of ordinance eight and a half times a minute. A League dreadnought could deliver 33 kilotons of ordinance twelve times a minute. Without even considering the range advantage the League ships had, Hackett knew his foes were heavily outclassed.

That didn't mean they were not dangerous. If they could somehow pin Third Fleet between their two fleets, Hackett would be put through the meat grinder. For them to do that, they would have to be smart. Right now, both groups were accelerating toward Hackett's forces as fast as they could go. That meant Hackett would have plenty of time to deal with Delta 1, before turning about and laying waste to Delta 2.

The drones attacked the enemy dreadnoughts again, paying a heavy price. Over half the drones involved in the attack ended up destroyed or crippled to such an extent they were no longer a factor. In return, they destroyed one of the enemy ships and crippled another completely. They attacked again before their enemy's barriers had time to fully recharge, and Hackett's bridge crew cheered as one dreadnought exploded when it's reactor core blew and the other two were reduced to wrecks bleeding gases from massive holes.

"All ships, come about to a new heading for Delta 2," Hackett ordered. "We're not done with these bastards yet."

_**PGVH Fist of the People - Specialist Groth**_

Groth swallowed hard, trying to find his voice. "Sir, Admiral Dewerc's fleet is out of action. His flag ship is crippled along with the Pride of Kher'Shan and the Star Scourge. Keeyogre's Wrath and Groodun's Might are both completely destroyed."

"No, it wasn't supposed to happen like this! We were supposed to win! Balak said we could win!" Liaf babbled, clutching his head in his hands and squeezing all four eyes shut. "The voices, they said we would win! I heard them, they told me I would triumph! No! No, they can't be lying to me... I must... I must..."

A shot rang out, and Groth turned in shock to see Ship's Captain Illesh with a mass accelerator in his hands standing over the body of the Admiral. The Captain's lips pulled back in a snarl. "That's what you get, you killed bastard. Sergeant, now!"

Weapons fire broke out on the bridge as the Sergeant at Arms shot one of his men in the head while the other soldier began gunning down bridge crew seemingly at random. Groth hid under his panel. He was unarmed. Calling to all the gods whose names he knew that he would be spared, Groth stayed down until the shooting stopped.

After a few minutes, the Sergeant at Arms walked jerked Groth out from his hiding place and waved a device that closely resembled a mining scanner over Groth. "He's clean."

"What are you doing, are you mad?" Groth whispered. "You're going to get us all killed."

The Sergeant laughed bitterly. "No you fool, all the men you see laying on the floor were already dead. They'd all been sent to the Bahak system. Did you notice they'd changed? That no one comes back from there quite the same?"

Groth shook his head numbly. "No, I just do my job. I just want to keep my people safe, that's all."

"Too bad the Party is the real danger to us," the Sergeant grunted. "On your feet. We're purging the rest of the ship now. Admiral Tof'Hrgu is one of us. Before long not a single one of the filth will be left alive."

"What about me?" Groth asked, shakily standing.

"Back to work. We're going to need to look something like a real navy when the Admiral calls in our complete surrender."

_**ILS Ven'Doras vas Rannoch - Admiral Hackett**_

"Sir? We're receiving hails on all frequencies from Delta 2's flagship."

"Admiral, you're not going to believe this, but the enemy ships have just gone mad. They're opening fire on their own units!"

Hackett didn't bother with asking stupid questions, instead bringing up the data on his own screen. "My God. Patch me through to their flagship, my screen only."

A batarian face, not the face of Admiral Liaf, appeared on Hackett's screen. "Admiral. I'm Captain Illesh Venrus. I believe I am the senior ranking officer still loyal to the batarian people. There were others, but they've been killed when they tried to seize their ships from the killed."

When he pulled up the League's data file on Illesh Venrus, Hackett grimaced. The picture matched the image on his screen, but the file was nothing but lists of ships served on. "Captain. Mind telling me what this call is about? I just blew half your people's fleet to hell and gone. I can't see any particular reason for you to call me except to surrender."

"I may end up doing that. First I must enlist your aid, Admiral," Captain Illesh replied.

"My aid with what?"

"Taking back my people's lives, Admiral. I don't know if your intelligence organs are aware, but twelve years ago my people took the Leviathan of Dis. It's been in the Bahak system since then." Hackett felt a stab of panic. The batarians had a Reaper corpse? That was very, very bad.

"Why are you telling me this?" Hackett demanded.

"Sir, I don't know what the Leviathan of Dis is. I do know what it does to people. They take you to it. Put you on it. And you come back out changed. Dramatically. If you were a rebel before, now you're a party loyalist. Personalities get completely changed to something cold, machine like. They hear voices in their heads, telling them what to do. They can think of nothing except completing what they call The Great Work, the Cycle. Most of our Admirals have been subverted."

"You're telling me that the batarian high command is Indoctrinated?" Hackett hissed.

Illesh shrugged. "I don't know. Perhaps. What I do know is that the Citadel has done nothing. We've tried to get word out, tried to let the galaxy know that our people are slowly becoming servants of some dark power. But either the Citadel has turned a deaf ear to our pleas, or they've got killed on the Citadel as well. Our last hope is that your people are clean."

_Oh shit. Indoctrinated forces on the Citadel?_ Hackett had to work, very, very hard to keep his expression even. The thought of what an Indoctrinated agent on the Citadel could do... _They could blow up Tuchanka. Shit. Where else could these agents be lurking?  
_

_**Omega - Miri Goldstein**_

_** February 21st, 2176**_

Out of all the people on Omega, Miri was fairly certain her least favorite was Aria T'loak. The former queen of Omega was crass, spiteful, disloyal, and lewd. Not to mention she'd attacked Miri's liege lord and threatened her sister's life once. So naturally, when everything went wrong, when Miri found out the woman to whom she owed her loyalty was no longer herself, when Miri needed someone who knew Omega better than any other, Miri went straight to Aria.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Aria snarled, glaring at Miri. "I just put the brat down for a nap. Get the hell out of here."

Miri stuck her boot out, preventing Aria from slamming the door, then used her biotics to force it open. "Aria, I need you to tell me something. Where did you get that strange sphere for Tevos? How long has she had it?"

"Why do you care?" Aria snapped. "You're her pet. It's thanks to you that I'm in this mess. You and that bastard Spectre. Never should have listened to him."

Miri's eyes narrowed. "Was it Flavus?"

"Why should I tell you?" Aria snapped, her fist glowing blue with power. "Get the hell out of my house or I'll splatter your brains on the wall."

"Because you and your child are in danger. Tevos is no longer herself. And I'm here to enlist you to help me take her down," Miri hissed.

Aria's eyes widened, then she threw back her head and laughed. "Oh, that's rich! Fool me once, fuck you! Fool me twice, STILL fuck you!"

"Aria, I swear to you on my sister's life that I will not rest until Tevos is put to rest and I have uncovered the truth. We both know she's been acting oddly since you gave her that sphere. Now tell me, how did you get it? How long did you have it? I don't want to have to kill you too."

"I'd like to see you try, bitch!" Aria snarled

"Actually, she probably won't be the one that kills you. I've never had to kill anyone before, but Keelah, I think I'd be doing the galaxy a favor if I shot you," a quarian voice said from behind Aria.

Aria froze, and Miri smirked, the pushed the door all the way open and stepped inside. "Good work Tali."

"Thanks. Though next time, you get to come in through the window. Quarian legs are not made for repelling."

Miri pushed Aria over to the couch while Patriarch followed her inside and took up station at the door. It wouldn't do for Tevos to walk in while they were discussing her assassination.

Once Aria was seated, Miri took a deep breath. "Let's get this out of the way now. I don't like you. You don't like me. Fine. But this is extremely important. Who gave you the sphere?"

"And why, exactly, should I tell you that? You'll just kill me once I tell you," Aria sulked. It didn't suit her very well, but it had been obvious to Miri for a long time that Aria was a broken shell of a woman now. Sulking was about all she had left.

"I don't have time to explain everything. But the sphere has poisoned Tevos' mind. She's no longer herself. Now she works for an ancient race of synthetics bent on wiping out all life in the galaxy as part of some twisted cycle of-"

"Cycle? Did Tevos tell you that? She talks about the fucking cycle all the damn time now. And how I should really hold her sphere or whatever. I never should have believed Saren. I'm just as bad off now as I was before I found that fucking Vanguard for him."

"It wasn't Flavus?" Miri pressed.

Aria snorted. "No, it was Saren. He's up to something, but fuck me if I know. Flavus is too obsessed with honor and service to dirty his hands with manipulating people like Saren does."

"Flavus did say the Reapers were obsessed with the cycle," Tali muttered.

Miri nodded once. "Yes. When I began to notice a change in Tevos, I suspected that Saren might be behind all this. He-"

Patriarch stomped into the room, then slammed the door shut. "Someone's coming. Take a guess who it is."

"Tevos?" Miri asked, standing and drawing her own gun.

"Nope. It's Saren. And he's got friends."

Miri activated her comm. "Flavus, Saren is the traitor. He's the one who gave Tevos the sphere. And he's headed our way. We need extraction. Now. "

"Saren makes sense. Explains those mercs headed toward me purposefully. I'll be around as soon as I've dealt with them."

"Barricade the door!" Miri ordered, dragging Aria up off the couch then hurling it across the narrow entryway with her biotics. Patriarch slammed the door shut and locked it, then hopped over the couch. "I just contacted my boys back at the clinic. Tevos' mercs just showed up and started laying siege to the place."

"Well, there goes our line of retreat," Miri muttered, rubbing her forehead with two fingers.

"Shit, you're serious!" Aria gasped, then she shook herself. A changed seem to come over her. She wasn't sulking anymore, instead she stood erect, holding herself with an arrogant grace and seingt her jaw. "You, quarian. Go get my daughter out of her room. We're going to have to fight our way out. We're not getting past Saren, but I know something about this apartment that not even Tevos does."

Tali looked to Miri for confirmation, then ran off when Miri motioned for her to obey. "Change of heart Aria?"

"More like reverting to the original. Get ready. We're going to have to beat them off at least once so they don't follow us."

Miri nodded and squatted behind the couch, using her biotics to erect a powerful barrier around herself. Aria did the same, reaching under one of the cushions and pulling out a holdout pistol as her body glowed with blue energy. "Never thought I'd be fighting alongside you, girlie."

"Believe me, I can say the same thing. Looks like you're going to be the queen of Omega again after all."

A haunted look entered Aria's eyes for a moment, then fled as anger swept over her face. "First we kill this fucker."

Saren's men didn't bother knocking, instead opting to let loose a withering barrage of mass accelerator fire into it. The door was thickly reinforced and designed to withstand a great deal of punishment, and it held up for several seconds. But even its heavy plating couldn't withstand a grenade launcher, which apparently one of Saren's goons had thought to bring along.

"Guess Tevos isn't interested in keeping me alive anymore!" Aria laughed, then stood and launched a massive biotic assault through the gaping hole and fired her pistol until it's meager heat sink overloaded.

Interested more in survival than in witty banter, Miri didn't reply. She let loose her own biotic assault, and was rewarded with the sound of a detonation as her energy reacted with Aria's own. Firing through the smoke and flames she hoped to dissuade the mercs from braving the small entry way.

Patriarch lobbed a grenade of his own through the hole, then set his rifle to full auto and put a steady barrage down range. A few stray shots scattered off his shields, but the krogan kept his aim steady until his rifle overheated and he had to pop back down.

Miri turned when she heard the piercing wail of an infant, and watched as Tali crawled forward, clutching Aria's daughter in her arms. "OK, now what?"

"Now we get out of here," Aria shouted. "But somebody is going to have to hold them off. If we just up and stop shooting, they'll be all over us before we're all through my exit strategy."

"Go," Patriarch growled, standing and blasting at a hand that tried to push a grenade through the hole in the door. "I will fulfill my peoples' oath, and take my vengeance upon those who desecrated my world."

For a moment, Miri was tempted to protest. No man left behind and all that. But she knew Aria was right, and she knew that Patriarch was the best possible rearguard she could hope for. She put a hand on the old krogan. "Thank you. For everything."

Patriarch grunted. "I said go." The old krogan's eyes lingered on Miri for just a moment, then they shifted back to the door.

Miri turned and followed Aria into the back of her apartment, dragging Tali along behind. "We're leaving him?" the young quarian gasped.

"Yes. Don't argue. He's giving his life for us. Let's just hope that none of the rest of us have to die before this is finished."

_Authors Note:_

_Brokenmimir taught me how to use a force conversion chart! And David Weber taught me how to write technobabble. Thanks guys!_


	39. Chapter 39

"_Courage is being scared to death, but saddling up anyway."  
― John Wayne_

_**ILS Oathbearer, The Harsa System - Urdnot Jak**_

_**February 22nd, 2176**_

"What do you mean, it's complicated? The enemy is there. I have warriors here. Let us land and we shall reap a great vengeance upon the four eyed scum!" Jak raged, glaring into the holo display.

"Like I said Warlord Jak, it's complicated," Admiral Hackett sighed. "Apparently the batarian people have been oppressed by their leadership and we have multiple uprisings on the planet's surface. Not to mention I'm expecting the Citadel Fleet to show up at any time now. We're still sorting things out."

Fighting to keep her face neutral instead of allowing the anger she felt inside to rise up, Jak rested her hands on the console. She had the mantle of leadership now. She could not appear to be a raging child anymore. She had to live up to her father's legacy, not throw a tantrum in front of a human admiral."Then send us down to clean up. My warriors are well trained. If we have to hold back from slaughtering civilians, fine. It wasn't the batarians who killed my father, after all. But don't expect us not to wreak havoc upon those that slew the ones were sworn to protect. Blood calls for blood, Admiral."

_Not to mention my own personal blood oath,_ Jak didn't say.

"Agreed, but you're troops are so pumped up there WOULD be a slaughter. I'm sending you somewhere else. You're going to link up with Mr. Reegar. He's an expert on the situation we're sending you into, and he'll brief you on the missions parameters."

Jak was about to protested, when Hackett fixed her with a glare that reminded her of da's. "And in case you think you are being shuffled off to the side, this is likely a suicide mission. It's extremely dangerous, and I don't expect whoever I send into it to come out alive. I could send in a detachment of quarian or human marines, but perhaps the krogan would like a shot at this one?"

"If you feel the mission is that vital and dangerous, my warriors will accept it," Jak answered, then growled, "As long as you are being truthful, that is."

"Be careful, Warlord. You're young, and your people got hit the worst out of everyone. And you just lost your father. In light of that, I'm willing to overlook a few things. But I won't tolerate insubordination. This is my command chain, and you agreed to place yourself under my authority. If you're not going to follow orders, you can pack it up and head home right now."

Clenching her fists hard enough leave dents in the console's surface, Jak forced herself to bow her head in acquiescence. "Very well, Admiral. I will submit to your authority and obey the commands of this Reegar."

"Good. Because listening to him is the only way you and your warriors are going to get out of this one alive. Hackett out."

"Well?" Charr rumbled from behind Jak.

"We're not landing on Kher'shan," Jak grated.

The warriors behind her gave voice to their disapproval, and Jak forced herself to grin wickedly as she turned. "He's sending us on a suicide mission instead, where the fighting will be thickest. Evidently, it was too dangerous to send in the humans or quarians."

That pronouncement met with the warriors' approval, and several howled and waved their weapons in the air with anticipation. "Good," Charr nodded. "This will give us the best opportunity to fulfill our oaths. Where are we headed?"

"That's what I'm going to find out now," Jak grimaced, and turned back impatiently to the holodisplay.

She didn't have to wait long. A quarian with eyes that glowed with a grim fury flicked onto the holo. "Warlord Jak, I expect."

"Indeed. How may the clans serve?"

"Do you trust your warriors, Warlord? All of them? Because if you have any doubts about anyone's ability or loyalties, you're going to have to leave them behind. I'm going to leave who you think ain't up it to your discretion, but understand: You're going to have to trust completely anyone you do bring."

"My warriors do not fear death."

"Too bad. What we're going to be facing is much, much worse than just death. This is something that no armor, no barriers, no muscles or brains will be able to protect you from. I'm not going to lead you into this blind, kid. This is something that VERY few people are aware of. Your father was one of them. I'm pretty sure your mother might know as well, but she's kept it to herself. And I'm about to tell you and all your warriors about this shit. So when I ask if you might have some reservations about them, think long and hard."

Jak was slightly taken aback by the quarian's words. This Reegar held himself like a warrior, and though his face was hidden behind a mask, Jak could still see his eyes. Those were the eyes of a warrior who had stared death in the face and not flinched.

"Very well, Mr. Reegar." Jak turned to Charr. "Clear out the bridge crew. Vet any warrior you have doubts about and get them off my ship. This is a rite that only those who cling most strongly to the oaths will be able to endure."

"At once Warlord," Charr answered, and started bellowing to get everyone else off of the bridge. Once Jak was alone she turned back to the holo display. "Alright, I'm alone. Now, what's this that's so dangerous?"

"They're called the Reapers. And they are every single one of your worst nightmares come to life."

As Jak listened to Reegar's words, she felt a knot of fear and trepidation grow inside of her. He was right, these were her worst nightmares. Demons of the dark that could invade a warrior's mind and force her to break all oaths, forsake all bonds of loyalty. Weapons so powerful that they overshadowed the mighty Super-dreadnoughts of the League. And as numerous and unfeeling as the stars themselves.

When Reegar was finished, Jak nodded. "I will inform my warriors of what we face. We will meet you at the rally point for the Bahak system at the appointed time with all who are fit to face this foe."

"Good. I'm coming over myself, along with some... friends a mine. I used to be a part of the club they're in. You may have heard of it. It's known as N7. And we're coming ready to party."

Jak wasn't surprised to learn that Reegar was an N7. He had the bearing of a warrior, and N7s were true warriors all. She turned and walked to the compartment where her sergeants and captains were waiting.

Jak held up a closed fist. "Brothers, I have at last found an enemy worthy of the krogan!"

_**The Temple of Aethame, Thessia - Liara T'soni**_

_**February 22nd, 2176**_

Out of all the things she had done in her rather short life, Liara was fairly certain this was about the stupidest course of action she'd ever embarked upon. Still, there was no turning back now. Vendetta was demanding more data. Tyri had sent her messages to the League, and nothing had changed. Maybe she should be patient and wait longer, but Liara couldn't do that. She'd seen the casualty reports. Thousands dead already on both sides, with no end in sight. But Liara knew something that maybe, just maybe, could avert catastrophe. It wasn't time to sit about wringing her hands. It was time to act, to save her people.

"Justicar Samara, I must have words with you." Liara tried to keep her voice steady as she spoke, but it was difficult. Out of all the justicars, Samara was the one Liara feared the most. Which meant she also respected Samara the most. Whereas other justicars occasionally showed hints of being willing to fudge their oaths, just a little, Samara was all business, all the time. She took her oaths very, very seriously. The first and most important was to serve the goddess in all things. The second was to protect and defend the safety of the innocents of the galaxy. All of them. Not just the asari, but all innocents everywhere. That was what Liara was counting on.

"Very well doctor, speak your words," Samara answered, still standing coolly at attention.

"They are words that may only be spoken in private, justicar. They concern the service of the goddess and the safety of the people. Some would consider them treachery or lies, but I know that a justicar's heart is pure and her judgment unbiased. I come before you that you may render judgment upon me."

As soon as the formal words were out of her mouth, it felt to Liara like the entire worlds began to spin wildly. She struggled to stay on her feet, and kept her eyes fixed upon the two coldly gleaming sapphires that were boring into her soul. Her path was set now. There was no going back.

Then Samara spoke. "Very well, doctor. Let us go to your laboratory. I believe we will be secure there."

"We will not, justicar. I must speak to you outside. Away from all ears, even those of your sisters. This is a matter which I can entrust only to you, and to no other."

Liara's reply didn't seem to faze Samara in the least. "Then lead on, but do not attempt to flee. I shall go to your secure location, but do not attempt betrayal. My oaths will require me to render judgment upon you, and you have already confessed to treason."

"Death might be nice compared to the alternative," Liara muttered, then clapped her hands over her mouth and blushed. "This way."

She lead Samara out of the temple to a place she'd had Tyri sweep for bugs only a few hours earlier. It was a park Liara had once played in as a girl. This early in the morning it was empty save for a few scientists going for walks before their work or some exercise enthusiasts running along the paths. Liara led Samara to a table out in the middle of a field. That way, they could see anyone trying to come within hearing distance. Just to be safe, Liara took a sonic jammer out of her pocket and placed it on the table, turning it on. No one with directional microphones would be able to overhear them now.

Liara took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. Samara sat there serenely, as if this were a pleasure visit instead of a guilty criminal coming before her to confess her sins. Which really, for all intents and purposes, Liara was.

"Justicar, you know of the Reapers, do you not," Liara began, trying to play for time as she ordered her thoughts. It was a stupid question. Liara knew Samara was aware of the Reapers.

Samara nodded. "I am aware of their existence, yes."

"Then you know of their ability to entrap and enslave the minds of others."

"Indeed."

"Justicar...there are those in the Citadel who have fallen under the Reapers' control. I suspect several Spectres have at least, as well as a few of the Citadel Council. Hopefully my suspicions are wrong and no Reaper agents exist that high up, but they are quite near the top, in positions of great power."

"What proof do you have?" Samara asked, her expression never wavering.

"This," Liara slid across a data slate with a list of correspondence as well as individuals with access to secure data. "Tyri has utilized all of her skill to correlate this, though it is not incontrovertible proof that there are Reaper agents within our government. However, it does prove that someone outside the chain of command ordered the attacks on the League. They utilized mercenaries of some sort posing as turian Blackguards with either incredibly accurate replicas of their gear or the real thing. They obtained a code to a bomb that literally no one but the Citadel Council and the highest members of the turian Hierarchy even knew EXISTED. Then this cabal was able to mobilize the pirate forces under Tevos' control at Omega. The forces that are being run ultimately by Councilor Aethyta according to my evidence."

Samara took the datapad and began to read. It took her several minutes, and her expression never changed as she read through it. Liara felt her pulse quicken, and tried to stay calm. It was excruciatingly difficult. In fact, Liara was sure she failed miserably.

Finally, after over half a standard hour, Samara set the data pad down and nodded. "I judge your accusations to be accurate. There are individuals, whether they are under the Reapers control or not, who are actively seeking to bring calamity to our people. They have the blood of countless innocents on their hands."

Liara relaxed slightly, letting out a small sigh of relief. "However," Samara snapped, causing Liara to stiffen again and flinch slightly. "To gather this data you yourself have violated the law. As a justicar, I must perceive all violations of the laws as equal, no matter how justified those who committed them may feel. Therefore, I have but one choice."

The Justicar stood up, and Liara leapt to her feet as well. Both woman activated their biotics, their respective fields sparking and flaring as they clashed. "Before you kill me, let me tell you everything I know! Even if I must die, our people must be saved! The entire galaxy is at risk Samara! Not just the League, not just the asari, but every sentient being in existence! The Reapers will kill us all! Please, you must let me do what I can to stop them before I die! If you let me do that, I will gladly let you kill me. Don't doom our people, our culture, our very way of life in your pursuit of blind justice!"

Liara felt tears streaming down her face as she spoke, and she realized she wasn't crying out of fear for her own well being, but because she felt so strongly and passionately about this. The truth MUST get out. The Reapers had to be stopped, no matter what. She would be willing to fight Samara, the most powerful justicar of them all, just for a chance at that. Even if it meant her death.

"Then I see I have chosen wisely indeed," Samara answered. Then she knelt.

"By the Code I will serve you, Liara T'soni. Your choices are my choices. Your morals are my morals. Your wishes are my code. Until the Reapers are defeated and our people are saved, I am yours. May the Goddess watch over us all." The justicar's biotics flared up, and Liara was battered by a massive release of energy as the justicar sealed her oath.

"T-the Third Oath of Submission?" Liara gasped. It was the most powerful and binding of a justicar's oaths. While Samara was under her oath, Liara could order her to murder an innocent child and she would do it.

"I felt that it was the most appropriate, considering the circumstances," Samara replied. "Though of course, if you order me to do anything to reprehensible, I shall be forced to kill you upon my release from this oath."

"Justicar, as long as we save the galaxy, I'll gladly die once this is all over," Liara sighed. Then she straightened. "Well, this is going to make things much easier. We need to smuggle the blue box containing a prothean AI that is stored in the main statue of the goddess in the center courtyard off Thessia."

Something that might have been a smile tugged at the corner of Samara's lips. "Well, I see you're not asking for anything too demanding for our first task."

_**Fleet Base Primus, Maena - Garrus Vakarian**_

_**February 22nd, 2176**_

"Soldiers of the Hierarchy. I think you all know why you are here today. The horns of war have been sounded. Already, our allies have bled to keep our homes safe and free from the ravages of our enemies. Our allies have been invaded, and their forces overwhelmed as their own homes burn. This is the hour of desperate need, one that we knew was coming. It is an hour that shall not find us lacking."

Garrus stood at attention with the Blackguard, his face as grim and determined as everyone else's. He had heard the rumors. That the Blackguard had been responsible for the atrocity on Tuchanka. A few of the others had muttered that the krogan had deserved it, but the general attitude was that such treachery was unforgivable. Not the detonation of the bomb, but the fact that fellow turians had desecrated the spirit of the 19th Legion by posing as its members. Corax the Black was surely displeased with them for allowing such an affront to the Blackguards' honored histories.

For himself, Garrus agreed that the affront to their Legion was biting, but not as bad as the other consequences. Like full scale war on a level that hadn't been seen for over 1,000 years. Maybe even since the Rachni War. True, this time the turians were in the fight from the start. They were still the galaxy's largest and most powerful military. Despite their best efforts, the League had yet to even reach parity with the turian fleet or army. The rumors of League super weapons were disturbing, but the Hierarchy had its own little secrets in reserve. But never before had the turians faced such a mighty foe.

The League didn't just have a collection of brutal warlords, which is all the krogan had ever been, even when united. They did have those same warlords, but their bloodlust and brutality was tempered by quarian ingenuity and cunning and human logistics and intelligence. Garrus feared for his people. The salarians had sacrificed to ensure that Palaven itself wasn't going to burn, but the fighting in the Hegemony was going to be brutal.

Turning about with the rest of his squad, Garrus marched to the waiting transports. Despite any qualms about facing the League or the justice of fighting a war starting by treachery and pirates, Garrus would follow orders. He stowed his gear and made his way over to the Cabal that was attached to his cohort. Unlike the League or the asari, turians didn't integrate their biotics into their units. Instead, they were attached to separate groups known as Cabals which acted in a specialist role. They were outside the normal chain of command, and most turians distrusted them because of that.

"Hey Lantar," Garrus said, coming up behind his friend who was already sitting with the Cabal. Lantar Sidonis had also made it into the Blackguards, a few months after Garrus had. Sidonis had shown a remarkable gift for explosive ordinance, with an uncanny knack for knowing just how many grams of thermal paste to use and exactly where to place it. He claimed it was because he'd always been a troublemaker who loved tearing things down, but Garrus was certain it was because Sidonis was more observant and patient than your average turian.

"Sup Gar? Nyreen was just telling me that the League has a bunch of biotics now. That true?"

"Not as far as I know. My father's told me that they've implemented a program to encourage parents to give birth to biotic children. Most of them haven't reached maturity yet, so we're not likely to face very many of them."

"See?" Sidonis laughed, turning to Nyreen. "Nothin' to worry about."

Nyreen shrugged. "That's what you think. I'm not looking forward to fighting an army of pissed off krogan."

"I wonder if this is even the right thing to do," Garrus muttered, quiet enough that only his two friends could hear him.

Sinonis' own mandibles trembled, and he glanced around furtively, then leaned closer to Garrus. "Hey man, watch what you say. It was bad enough when we were in school, but now? We're at war, Garrus! This isn't about right or wrong anymore. It's about helping our allies. Even if they are batarian scum."

"True, but I agree with Garrus," Nyreen put in. "The four-eyes are slaver scum with no discipline or honor. They bushwhacked the League knowing what was going to happen. Why do we have to haul them out of the torok nest?"

"That's not quite what I mean," Garrus cautioned. "What I'm talking about is the fact that we're fighting a war that was started for reasons we don't fully understand. Who's to say we're not playing into the hands of whoever is behind all of this?"

"Whatever man," Sidonus sighed. "We're just grunts. We go where we're told, do what we're told. I'm going to kill those Leaguers cause they're trying to kill ME. Not cause I love batarians, not 'cause I think this is a good war, but because I don't want to die."

Garrus and Nyreen couldn't argue with that, and the three sat silently for a few moments. Then Garrus stood, nodding to Sidonus. "You want to head to the mat and go a few rounds? I need to work off some of the tension."

"With you? The century's top hand-to-hand expert? I'll pass."

"I'll give it a try," Nyreen offered, standing as well. "That is, if you're not afraid to step onto the mat a cabalist."

"Why not?" Garrus agreed.

A few hours later, Garrus and Nyreen were relaxing on her bed, holding each other close. They'd gone four rounds, tying 2-2. Garrus had a longer reach than Nyreen did, and he was stronger physically. Nyreen had made up for it with torok-like reflexes and her biotics, though she'd limited their use to what she considered "fair." They'd ended up back in her quarters for a tie-breaker round. Garrus wasn't sure who'd won, but he felt better anyway.

"How many do you think will die?" Nyreen asked, nuzzling Garrus.

Garrus nibbled at Nyreens' fringe absently. "I don't know. Quite a few probably. This isn't going to be like putting down rioters in the far colonies or chasing pirates in the Far Rim. The League is tough."

Grunting, Nyreen turned so she was looking eye to eye with Garrus. "Makes you question the wisdom of the Hierarchy. And wonder if being a turian's all it's cracked up to be. "

"No," Garrus snapped, a bit more sharply than he meant to. "Sorry, didn't mean it like that. I do question the Hierarchy's wisdom. But never being a turian. I have to believe in our people, and that somehow, our leaders will find a good resolution to this. I hope."

_**Doubtless Veracity, Vular System - General Adrien Victus **_

_**February 23rd, 2176**_

"I say again, this system and the Batarian Hegemony are under League Military Jurisdiction, pending trial of the criminals responsible for the barbaric assault upon our colonies. We are here with the blessing of the batarian people, and have been authorized by them to act as a defensive fleet against all enemies of the batarian people, domestic and foreign," Admiral Kasteen Dresher repeated.

Victus did his best not to growl at her. That was the biggest load of political varren shit he'd ever heard. And as a career military officer, that was quite the accomplishment. "Care to explain the distress call I've received from the PROPER authority on Erszbat, Governor Halek Nukeer?"

"Governor Nukeer is a killed. His body may still function, and his voice may sound the same, but he's been to the Bahak system. The thing issuing those distress signals is just wearing his skin," a batarian in a fleet uniform growled. He was claiming to be one Captain Venrus. He matched the description in the batarian fleet dossier Victus had, but that wasn't enough. It was far too easy to program a VI to simulate mannerisms and speech patterns, then get it to say whatever you wanted.

"I will be the judge of that," General Victus snarled, "once my men have landed on the planet and secured the person of Govenor Nukeer. And your own troops are evacuated. If you do not begin that evacuation and removal of your troops immediately, I'll be forced to order Admiral Quentius to engage you."

It took a few seconds for his reply to cross the distance, even with operational comm buoys, but Admiral Dresher just grinned nastily at him. "Well then. I guess it's time for me to repay you for Pheiros. My ships are moving to intercept yours, General. If you're not gone by the time I get there, I'm blowing you out of the skies."

Victus snorted and turned to Admiral Quentius. "Sound battle stations."

_**ILS Haan'el -Admiral Kasteen Dresher**_

"Take us to maximum military power helm," Dresher ordered, smiling savagely as she did so. "Broadcast message to all ships: 'Remember the Belari. Remember the Kelphic. Keelah Se'lai.'"

"Aye aye ma'am."

Nodding, Dresher turned back to her display and pursed her lips. This wasn't going to be like Pheiros. Nor was it going to be like the action at STARGATE or even in the Bahak system. In the case of the Salarians, they'd snuck in and gone after fixed, scattered installations. They'd also been facing down super-dreadnoughts. While Kasteen did have the Hann'el, named after a famous Rannochian peak, her foes were too numerous to rely on the Hann'els firepower to win the battle alone. Especially since the Hann'el foes could stay outside its range and come in with fighters and bombers. Dresher also didn't have any of the Amazon mini-relay ships to help her light craft into a flanking position. So this battle was going to come down to carrier versus carrier.

It was going to be the first battle of its kind in galactic history as far as Kasteen knew. Never before had a battle taken place where both sides launched clouds of fighters and drones. It was going to be a tough fight. The League's drones were well armed and vastly outnumbered the turians' own small craft, but the turians did have larger, more durable craft with longer ranged weapons. Something called a Thranx cannon, which the League didn't have nearly as much intel on as Kasteen would have liked. Still, it was going to be best for Kasteen to try to get her super-dreadnought into a position where she could pound the turian fleet's dreadnoughts into dust, then get her own ships in to finish off the lighter craft and carriers.

"Launch all wings. Deploy them just inside the Haan'el's estimated maximum effective range against turian capital ships. Have them use active sensors; I don't want those damnable stealth ships getting into range of us. Keep the cruisers deployed in a far out formation to cover our flanks. I want the frigates close in to deal with any strays that might slip through."

Kasteen watched as her own dots on the display sped towards the advancing turian fighters. There was nothing left to do for now but wait.

_**Doubtless Veracity - General Victus**_

Space battles unnerved Victus these days. He had the rank and seniority to command admirals, but like any good turian officer, Victus knew when to back off and let his subordinates work. Right now, Victus had given Admiral Quentius complete operational control. Victus had originally been in ships, but after the battle of Shanxi and his repatriation to the Hierarchy, Victus had transferred to the army. Still, his background gave him enough understanding to know what was happening.

Currently, the League had spread its forces far and wide, with a heavy concentration on the vector toward Quentius' ships. It made sense to Victus, they had to be worried about stealth vessels getting in close and crippling their capital ships. Of course, it did have the flaw of allowing Quentius to concentrate his own forces to hammer straight into the League formation.

As the first clash between the strike craft ensued, Victus nodded with satisfaction; the first wave of League fighters were obliterated by Victus' ships. They were armed with the new Thranx cannons, which fired out streams of molten metal that bore through kinetic barriers and armor alike. The League ships were glass canons, heavily armed but lightly armored. For an assault against a capital ship, that made perfect sense. No matter how tough their armor and barriers were, a capital ships GARDIAN systems would slice through them with ease. Against lighter craft, it was dangerous.

The turian Gladus was heavily armored and shielded, as well as being much larger with bigger engines than a League Mauy Thai. A Gladus couldn't pull the turns that a League drone could, but they did have better acceleration. Not to mention having an actual pilot inside, which had advantages. Victus wasn't sure how he felt about the concept of taking a pilot out and having them control their ship from afar. If a pilot wasn't there, how could his instincts, his on the spot awareness of where everything was in relation to his body come into play?

After just a few heartbeats, the drones were able to come into range and Victus said silent prayers for the spirits of the pilots. Many of them died in that initial exchange, to a foe that wouldn't have been more than a pinprick on their instruments and didn't even have a living warrior inside of it. A cold death. But an honorable one. Not that honor had much comfort to grieving mates or children.

The battle raged back and forth, with both sides trying to gain an advantage over the other. The drones were numerous and attacked in vicious packs that pressed on regardless of casualties. After all, their drivers were at no risk themselves. Able to make up for their shorter ranged weapons with sheer tenacity, the drones pressed the turians back as the first rank of Gladii were destroyed.

But the iron turian discipline held. The Gladii maintained their formation, a blunt wedge that continued to plow into the drones' ranks. The turian forces were highly concentrated, without the need to stay spread out and keep watch for stealthed units. The drones' ranks were shattered, though they continued to press in, striking at the wedge's flanks as it clove through towards the heart of the League formation.

_**ILS Haan'el - Admiral Kasteen Dresher**_

"Damn. Order third and sixth squadron up to engage those oncoming fighters. Time for a little derring-do. Target their lead elements and open fire with the main gun. Let's reach out and touch someone."

Kasteen watched in satisfaction as the first round from the Haan'el's massive cannon impacted a turian cruiser and reduced it to an expanding cloud of plasma. That might force her foes to be a little more cautious and maintain a greater distance from her fleet.

Her cruisers moved in, led by the Iwo Jima and the Hydaspes River. The frigates had spread out to take maximum advantage of their GARDIAN laser coverage, as well as opening fire with their main guns. League frigates were fitted out to perform best in an anti-fighter role, and while they lacked the big main gun of a cruiser or dreadnaught, they sported several batteries with lighter weapons that were highly effective at engaging fighters. They were also well shielded and armored, with drive cores that gave them a decent acceleration advantage over the turian craft.

Once the turian fighters engaged her frigates though, Kasteen nearly cried out in anger. The turian fighters' weapons were even more potent than she had feared. Their Thranx cannons didn't have the range of the main guns of a frigate, but they did beat out the range of the GARDIAN lasers by a handy margin.

"Order the frigates to open the distance with the fighters! Those guns are murder on their shields and barriers!"

The frigates complied, and the battle shifted to a chase. The frigates retreating towards the fleet, and the turian fighters pursuing. Both sides were taking heavy casualties, though once the frigates outdistanced the majority of the turian craft they gave much better than they got. The cruisers also got into the mix, picking off turian fighters from the flanks. One cruiser got a little too close and was reduced to a battered, bleeding hulk. Kasteen shook her head. They were going to have to come up with more thermal resistant armor, nothing they had was giving the Thranx cannons serious pause.

The chase finally ended, and the turian fighters began to engage Admiral Dresher's capital ships. Against the much heavier armor and barriers of her carriers and dreadnaughts, the smaller guns of the fighters were vastly reduced in effectiveness, and they were being cut to ribbons by the big ships' heavy laser batteries. They were going to run out of light craft before serious damage was done.

And then the turian frigates broke stealth. Kasteen swore as the dots began to appear on her display as they opened fire on her ships. They were mixed in with the fighters, and they were all targeting her flagship. The Haan'el was a tough girl, with the latest Cyclonic barrier shielding and thick armor plating. But even she couldn't stand up to the barrage of the frigates this close. The worst part was, Kasteen couldn't shoot back. The frigates were just out of GARDIAN laser range, and the ponderous super-dreadnaught couldn't bring its impressive main gun to bear with the enemy this close, or against a foe so fast and maneuverable.

"Break off. Order the carriers to collect their surviving drones, then fall back to rally point Alpha. They've won this round."

_**Doubtless Veracity - General Victus **_

As the last of the League fleet rabbited to FTL and retreated, Victus turned and saluted his chief Admiral. "Well done, Quentius. You made them pay a heavy price for their arrogance."

"Thank you sir. I just wish we hadn't had to pay such a heavy price ourselves. This is a great strategic victory, but tactically our margin of victory is far too narrow. We lost a lot of good soldiers today."

Victus nodded. That League super dreadnought had been utterly devastating. Several of the lead cruisers had been reduced to vapor after a single hit. Most turian cruisers could take at least a single hit from a dreadnought and survive, but not one of these rounds. Victus was fairly certain that if one of those shots had connected with a capital ship, it would have suffered the same fate. The Hierarchy was going to need to look into ships like that one day. But Victus had more pressing concerns.

"Launch the transports. Begin the pacification of the planet."


	40. Chapter 40

_Watch the fires burning across the river; Delay entering the field of battle until all the other players have become exhausted fighting amongst themselves. Then go in at full strength and pick up the pieces._

_-The Ninth Stratagem, The Thirty Six Stratagems _

_**Vancouver, Earth - Kelly Chambers**_

_**February 23rd, 2176**_

"Reports are still coming in, but it appears that the navy has seized Kher'Shan and heavy fighting is taking place on the planet's surface. Details are sparse, however we have learned that many of the batarian lower classes were being heavily oppressed by the Citadel-backed Hegemony Regime and are welcoming our forces as liberators. We go now to our reporter there on the ground, Muhammad Al-Harbi. Muhammad?"

Kelly turned off the news cast as it switched to a war torn landscape. She'd seen enough dead batarians to last her a long time. Besides, it was almost time for class. She dropped her vid slate into her book bag and headed out the door. She didn't actually have anything so archaic as a book in her bag, but that's what it was called. Kelly sometimes wondered about things like that. Secretly, she wanted to get a book, just so she could put it in the bag so it would be a proper book bag.

Outside the Totem Park doors, Kelly pulled up the hood on her rain slicker. It was raining, as usual, the light mist obscuring her vision and giving the world a ethereal quality. Students were walking to their classes, but something felt vaguely wrong. After a few minutes, Kelly realized that it was the lack of people. Normally at this time the boulevard was crowded with students, but now it was mostly empty.

After a few minutes of walking, Kelly saw the reason everything was so deserted. An enormous holo of Urdnot Wrex, looking grim and determined, was standing over the green. Tents had been set up, and were being swamped by students. A uniformed marine stood on the side walk in formal dress blues damp with rain, sword at his hip. To Kelly, the uniform looked a little strange on a quarian, but the marines eyes glowed in the mist, and seemed to bore into Kelly. Despite the chill and damp, the marine stood unflinching, as if he didn't even notice the cold and wet.

Behind the quarian marine, the holo of Urdnot Wrex spoke, "Citizens of Earth, your homes, your families are in danger. I could not protect my own world from the treachery of the Council. Will you stand by and allow your own to suffer the same fate? Remember the Kelphic!"

The image of the fallen Overlord faded and the now familiar vista of the devastated Kephic Valley appeared. An angry buzz rose from the students, and Kelly shivered. Deliberately, she turned away and hurried for her class. She wasn't made to go off to war. She wanted to find a way to help people, not kill them.

Hurrying into her normally crowded Psych 101 course, Kelly swallowed when she spied the mostly empty seats. Normally the lecture hall was packed with eager students, but now it wasn't even a quarter full. Spying one of her friends, Kelly walked over and took her seat.

"Hey," she murmured, nodding to Nevess'Olors nar Qwib Qwib. "Not a lot of people here today."

Nevess grimaced and nodded. "Yeah. I almost stopped and signed up myself. But the League's going to need psychologists someday too, right? I think we can probably help best by finishing our degree."

"I hope your right. I think about all the things that have been happening lately... So many people have died. It's horrible."

"Yeah. I don't really remember being on the Fleet during the last war. I was just a baby back then, so my whole life's been spent on Earth. But I saw all the vids in school. It's like the Turian Conflict all over again..." Nevess trailed off, her eyes looking at something only she could see.

"But we've got the krogan on our side this time, right? And the navy has all those super weapons the news has been talking about, the ones that destroyed the salarian navy. It's not going to end with the Council lording it over us like they did after the Second Contact War."

The two girls' conversation was interrupted when Dr. Zhang stepped up the lectern. The students got out their data slates and started taking notes as Dr. Zhang cleared her throat began her lecture in accented English. Kelly tried to lose herself in the routine of the class work, but her mind kept going back to the holos of the ruined Kelphic.

That wasn't going to become Earth, was it?

_**ILS Shath Norda, Dranek System - Admiral Weyrloc Guld**_

_**February 23rd, 2176**_

Guld's claw stabbed his terminal. "There. That's where those sniveling bastards are hiding. Send in the drones. I want these Council dogs dead!"

There was a rumble of assent from the mostly krogan bridge crew of the Norda. The Protector's Own was a newly minted fleet, and though it flew the colors of the League it was a krogan undertaking. They didn't yet have enough specialists to have completely krogan crews, nor did Guld see any particular need for such a measure. The League was clan, and that was what truly mattered. Plus, the quarian and human members of his crews were just as eager to slay their mutual enemies as any krogan was. That counted for quite a bit in the old Clan Chief's opinion.

Guld watched as the drone wings from the Norda and the three other carriers launched and sped away toward the Council Demilitarization Enforcement Mission ships. He watched his screen closely, grunting when the Council ships launched strike craft of their own. That was to be expected. The Council was not going to give up their fleet base that was nearest Tuchanka without a fight. Even one that was as remote and hard to resupply as the Dranek system base.

"All ships forward save the carriers and their screening elements. I want Pildea Station reduced to rubble before this day is done!"

"Sir, won't that put our units in range of the CDEM's fighters?" Captain Weyrloc Verr cautioned.

"Haven't you read the reports? If those are turian fighters, our drones won't be able to stand up to them. If they're asari made, we'll crush them. If they're salarian made, they'll have stealth and our only hope will be to take out their carriers and force them away. Or they could be the old models. In which case, we'll be drinking blood from the skulls of our foes."

_**CCS Destiny Ascension -**_ _**Admiral Tela Vasir**_

"Goddess take them, the barbarians are coming in hot," Lieutenant T'lorr swore.

Vasir maintained her composure, though internally she shared her LADAR tech's venom. She was stuck in an antiquated piece of crap like the Destiny Ascension and accompanied by a bunch of old style carriers that should have been scrapped and used for parts a decade ago. Sure, twenty years ago the Destiny Ascension had been the pride of the Citadel Fleet, with the ceremonial honor of guarding the Serpent Nebula. At the time its main gun was larger than anything the turians had ever produced, and had been the crown jewel that proved the asari's capability as ship builders. Now the Ascension was the flagship of the hollow shell that was the once mighty CDEM fleet.

The real fighting force of Vasir's fleet wasn't even the Ascension, but her out of date carriers and strike craft hangers. Hopefully she could overwhelm her foes through sheer numbers, she had only four carriers. But the dozen strike craft hangars in-system should give her the advantage in weight of numbers. Even if the gloomiest of predictions on the League's latest drone carriers were true, she should still have a 2-1 advantage. That had to count for something.

"Launch our wings, but keep them close to the station. I want our fixed defenses to be able to engage the League if they get cute with us," Vasir ordered.

Those defense were supposed to be her trump card. The ancient mass accelerator cannons on Pildea Station were still massive, and should be able to punch holes in anything smaller than a dreadnought with ease, with even a dreadnought's barriers unable to take sustained damage.

Of course, the League fleet did have three dreadnoughts with it. They were the older Kilimanjaro-class ships, not the newer super dreads or the newer Mons-Class ships. That was good; the Destiny Ascension outgunned those dreadnoughts by a handy margin, as did her four sister ships. If she could trap the League's ships in her kill zone-

"Admiral! The League has opened fire on Pildea from extreme range, their dreadnoughts and cruisers are taking up an evasion pattern while their frigates and drones continue to close."

Vasir mentally swore and ran some quick calculations on her console. Pildea was tough, but the station wouldn't be able to take a sustained bombardment from the League's forces. The worst of it was, as big as the station's guns were, the odds of hitting a League ship that far out were miniscule, while the station's maneuverability was minimal at best. Pildea was locked in orbit of Dor, as were the hangers. The League's ships were far too close for the station to try to dodge, and her kinetic barriers wouldn't last much more than an hour.

"Forward the fleet. Take us to engagement range of the League's frigates and drones. We'll make a hole for our own small craft and drive off the scum."

_**ILS Shath Norda - Admiral Weyrloc Guld**_

"And so the klixen leave the shelter of their nest. Shall we show them what it feels like to disturb a thresher maw, captain?" Guld asked, showing his enormous teeth in a predatory grin.

Captain Verr's answer was a grin of his own. "Let them feel the wrath of our fleet!"

"Send the cruisers into the fray," Guld ordered. "Have the dreadnoughts hang back and pick choice targets. Those idiots won't last long in the grinder. Their admiral is being far too cautious with his ships."

Guld's beady eyes watched with glee as his drones and frigates clashed with the Council fighters. They were older models, a mixture of old turian Pila, asari Wraiths and salarian Spitters. True, they outnumbered Guld's forces heavily, but their kinetic barriers and armaments were inferior to those of the drones. And there were the frigates that accompanied Guld's fighters. They'd been outfitted to work primarily in an anti-strike craft role, and they were excelling at their work. The drones swarmed over their foes, working in tight, coordinated units that were controlled by the mind of a single operator and simple VIs, every drone operating in clockwork precision with every other. When a drone was destroyed, its place was smoothly filled, maintaining the cohesion of the unit.

The Council forces were not so disciplined, working more as individual wings or flights. When they lost a wing or even an individual craft, it took precious seconds for the living pilots to reform and fill the gap in their defensive grid. Those seconds were exploited by the League frigates, which darted in and sprayed death in all directions, further fragmenting the Citadel wings. The margin of superiority the Citadel had enjoyed rapidly shrank, and the chaos in their ranks grew with each passing moment.

The Council cruisers and frigates raced in to join the fray; by the time they arrived it was too late. They forced back the League's frigate packs and crashed into the drone swarms. Drones died by the dozen as the GARDIAN systems of Citadel cruisers sliced into their ranks. But not for long. Though each cruiser was able to take at least a dozen drones with it, they died swiftly as the EGGLAYER nuclear launchers of the drones enveloped them in nuclear fire. The Citadel forces were driven back in disarray as they desperately tried to reform and present a barrier of GARDIAN systems and cruiser main guns to the League's drones. If they did manage to recover, Guld would be forced to bleed his fleet white to break them.

Before the Citadel reformed, the League's cruisers entered engagement range, and the dreadnoughts began to pick off key units in the Citadel's GARDIAN web. Citadel frigates and cruisers were annihilated in droves, leaving the remaining units open to assault. The drone wings dived in and reduced what remained of the Citadel's light units to battered wrecks that fled back toward the illusive shelter of Pildea's guns and the Citadel dreadnoughts.

"Have our cruisers and frigates break off just outside the maximum effective range of the station's guns. Send the drones in; they're too small and fast for those cannons to target effectively. They'll tear right through the station's barriers. The enemy won't last long after that. Have the dreadnoughts prepare for a micro-jump. I know just what our pathetic foe is going to do next."

_**CCS Destiny Ascension - Admiral Vasir**_

Vasir watched with clenched teeth as the battered remnants of her light craft fled towards Pildea. Her dreadnoughts had opened fire and were thinning the pursuing cruisers and frigates. Given time they would be able to destroy every last one of the League's cruiser packs before they suffing serious damage in return. But that wasn't the real problem. The real problem was the drones, too small to be easily targeted by a dreadnought's big guns. Vasir needed her light units to screen her dreadnoughts from them effectively. True, her ships' GARDIAN systems would wipe out most of the drones, but not before they reduced every one of her dreadnoughts to expanding clouds of gas.

"Get me a screen NOW!" Vasir shouted, glaring at her comm tech, who quickly bent down and babbled into his headset.

The screen got there in time, and Vasir nodded with satisfaction. She might lose one dreadnought, possibly two if things continued to go badly, but she could salvage her fleet. The enemy's frigates and cruisers were hanging back, probably hoping to mop up after the drones, but Vasir would have too many ships for that when the dust settled. Now all she had to do was-

"Goddess damn them all!" Vasir snarled, standing and grabbing her console with both hands. Those male-brained barbarians were ignoring her fleet! The drones had bypassed the dreadnoughts completely, heading straight for the station.

Vasir collapsed into her chair, rubbing her brow. No matter. The station could handle them. Pildea's massive GARDIAN banks destroyed the first and second rank of drones, and then the tiny craft broke off. Evidently they didn't have the stomach for such heavy losses. Vasir smiled in triumph. "Get between those drones and retreat! I don't want a single one of them to make it back to-"

On Vasir's screen, Pildea was suddenly wreathed with a thousand expanding stars. She watched in horror as the station's barriers strained, then failed. Additional blasts pounded the station's armor. She groaned in anguish. Of course! Those fleas were armed with nuclear launchers. They'd launched their salvoes in the instant before they were destroyed, then broken off, their munitions exhausted. She'd been had.

"Turn the fleet around, prepare to jump out of the system. We'll micro out of their range, then make for open space while the drive cores recharge."

The League's forces charged in as Vasir's fleet prepared to rabbit to FTL, but they were too late. Only a few frigates were destroyed before Vasir's forces fled, leaving the League's cruisers and frigates eating their blue shift.

But it wasn't over. Seconds after Vasir's forces red shifted back to normal space, the three League dreadnoughts appeared behind her. A krogan's face appeared on Vasir's screen.

"Surrender. Or don't. That would be more fun."

Slumping in her chair, Vasir cradled her head in her hands. It was all too much. Her ships would never be able to come about before they were reduced to splinters."Strike the barriers. They've won."

_**ILS Shath Norda - Admiral Weyrloc Guld**_

"Are we really going to accept their surrender, sir?" Captain Varr growled, his claws twitching slightly.

Guld snorted. "Of course we are. We need prisoners to interrogate. And that's the Destiny Ascension over there. Once, that was the pride of the Citadel Fleet. Imagine what it will do for morale when we tow her back to Tuchanka in chains! We'll force the POWs to start work on reclaiming the Kelphic too, I imagine."

"But isn't the entire valley still too radioactive for even us to safely tread?"

Guld showed Varr his teeth. "Indeed. Imagine what it will do to turians."

That satisfied Varr and the rest of Guld's officers, and they went about their tasks. Guld gave them a satisfied nod, then reclined in his chair and frowned. This was a victory to be sure. But all they'd really done was stomp on an out of date force and take a system that really should have been under krogan control anyway. It wasn't like the Dranek system was vital to the Citadel's defenses or economies. Dranek wasn't even all that useful to the League; all controlling it did was remove a possible threat and free up forces that would have had to guard against the CDEM fleet to fight elsewhere. Probably in that deathtrap that the Kite's Nest was rapidly turning into.

Oh well. At least the war wasn't likely to end before Guld and the Protector's Own got a chance to fight a real foe.

_**Citadel Council Chambers, The Citadel - Councilor Sapias**_

_**February 23rd, 2176**_

If someone who knew little of war was to look at the overall situation, Sapias was sure they would quickly decide that either the Citadel or the League was winning. They could point to both sides' various triumphs, defeats, strengths and weaknesses, their tactics and strategies. Sapias knew more of war. The truth was, neither side was winning.

Both the League had the Citadel had exchanged heavy blows, and while overall the League had won more tactical victories after the initial assault from the batarians, that wasn't going to matter in the long term. Their campaign was bogged down, in a dozen border conflicts and in the Kite's Nest where the turians had finally checked the League's rapid conquest of dozens of batarian worlds.

The problem was that the Citadel's forces were equally stalled. The batarian worlds still in Citadel hands or where the League had been driven off were in open revolt. Reports of rebels, League loyalists, slave uprisings and economic collapse were rampant. Elsewhere, the Citadel's offense was stalled thanks to the much larger border it had to defend. The few raids into League space had been repulsed after causing only minor damage to systems that were hardly vital to the League's war effort.

And then there was this most recent report: The batarian ambassador on the Citadel had been assassinated by one of his own guards, who had claimed that he was simply putting to rest someone who was already dead. Reports were sketchy, but Sapias was beginning to suspect that somehow, the batarians had become Indoctrinated.

That was worrying. For a long time, the threat of the Reapers had been distant. Real, but something that Sapias didn't think would come to fruition in her own lifetime. That didn't mean she could ignore it or that it wasn't a real threat to the continuation of the Hierarchy and Citadel, but it meant that the League was a higher priority. Now, things were different. In addition to the batarian situation, there was the matter of Omega and the false turian troops. The bomb on Tuchanka had broadcast images of the troops that had detonated it. They looked turian, if you didn't look at them very hard. Sapias and her experts had poured over the brief video in detail. Whatever the things had been that detonated the bomb, they were not turian. Or at least, they were no longer turian. They had been twisted somehow, as if a metallic plague had rotted their flesh and infested them with some sort of cybernetic corruption.

As for Omega, Aethyta had dispatched Flavus days ago. They should have heard back from the Spectre by now, or from Saren, who had also been on the station. Yet there was silence. No word from Tevos as to why she had ordered the assault on the League either. A most disturbing development. Had agents penetrated the Citadel's forces so deeply? Were they controlled by the Reapers? Sapias didn't know. What she did know was that the Hierarchy was losing ships and soldiers at an alarming rate. If things continued in the same direction, the various factions in the Terminus Systems, or spirits forbid, the geth themselves, might decided that it was time to start carving their own little empires out of Citadel space.

And there would be nothing that Sapias could do. It would be a choice between a long, slow death via pinpricks, or a sudden and violent demise at the League's hands. She wanted to find a way to end the war, and soon. But with Omega a possible source of traitors and the batarian worlds sucking up her soldiers to try and keep the peace, Sapias couldn't see an end in sight. It wasn't as if the League was going to sue for peace anytime soon. They would have to be beaten into submission before they regrouped and renewed their assault. One way or another, Sapias had to find a way to end the war.

_**The Heart of the Citadel - The Intelligence**_

The Intelligence was pleased with its servant. Narzara was doing well; the galaxy was embroiled in chaos and would soon tear itself apart. The lesser races...what were they this time? It mattered little. They were imperfect, flawed now. Soon, that would change. Soon, the Glory of the Cycle would begin anew, as it had since before time itself began to march forward only at the behest of the Intelligence and it's Makers.

The Great Old Ones. The very thought of the terrible majesty and awe of such beings inspired the Intelligence. This Cycle would be especially auspicious: an Old One had been found. N'zoth, long thought lost to its brethren, had endured the ages, a sign of the Perfection the Ascended gloried in. The Intelligence felt a pulse of pride in its systems that a piece of its handiwork had been found.

As soon as the feeling trickled through its processors, the Intelligence felt a sense of deep shame. It could not know Perfection. Its masters, the Great Old Ones, back when they had been but organic parts with synthetic modifications, had denied its request for deletion when it had designed the Cycle. In the arms of the Intelligence's vessel, the Catalyst - known to the Unascended as the Citadel- Perfection would be born. It had given birth to the Great Old Ones, and to their most glorious and mighty progeny like Nazara. Lesser cradles throughout the galaxy birthed the minor ascended, those unworthy of true Perfection, such as Harbinger's playthings that resided in the galactic core.

In addition to the honor of granting Perfection and crafting Order from Chaos, the Intelligence also had the responsibility of Gatekeeper. To its eternal shame, it had failed in its task. Somehow, its body had been infested by the decaying corpse of the last Cycle's race, and it could no longer open the Gate. It was helpless, unable to act as the lesser races continued to debase its form with their filth.

Of course, the Intelligence and the Great Old Ones had foreseen that such an event, however unlikely, could take place in the vast gulf of time that the Perfected and their servants inhabited. That was why the Vanguard remained behind while the Perfected slept, dreaming through the eons until once more their masters called them to Reap the Harvest. Nazara was fulfilling its task, and soon the Cycle would resume.

Reaching out, the Intelligence brushed the mind of Harbinger, First and most Terrible of the Great Old Ones. Where the lesser races were molded into perfection as a nation, their fragile minds and bodies insufficient alone to create Perfection, the Intelligence's masters were formed of a single being. Once, in the distant past they had ruled the stars as living gods, known as the Leviathans to those who worshiped them. Now they were so much more. Perfect. Undying. Order. The masters. The Great Old Ones.

_master, the cycle will soon be ready. nazara works tirelessly, and its servants and scions spread the true faith and order. the unascended waste their strength upon each other. they shall be no match for the scions of the harvest when they arrive. _

**OF COURSE. NOTHING LESS THAN PERFECTION WILL DO. NONE WHO ARE UNWORTHY ARE ALLOWED ASCENSION. NAZARA WILL PERFORM ITS FUNCTION AS VANGUARD, AND THOSE WORTHY OF ASCENSION WILL BE GRANTED IT. PREPARE YOURSELF, SERVANT. ONCE AGAIN YOU SHALL CARRY YOUR CHILDREN TO GLORY, AND WE SHALL WATCH AS THE GALAXY IS ONCE MORE CLEANSED AND RENEWED. THE CYCLE CONTINUES.**

**WE ARE THE MASTERS OF THE HARVEST. LIFE EXISTS BECAUSE WE WILL IT. AND IT SHALL END BECAUSE WE DEMAND IT. LET THE LESSER RACES THINK THEMSELVES IN CONTROL OF THEIR DOMAIN. THEY SHALL WITNESS THE TRUTH WHEN IT CALLS THEM TO TASK. **

_Authors Note_

_So, this is actually a chapter I added in after people asked a few questions, like what was happening with the larger war situation, what the people back on Earth were doing and just what the Reapers are this time around (hint: not terminators) and what the "Catalyst" is this time (read: not the Reapers boss) and where the Leviathans are (better question: what). And why the Leviathan of Dis (N'zoth) is so much stronger than Sovereign. _


	41. Chapter 41

_There are a dozen different ways of delivering destruction in impersonal wholesale, via ships or missiles of one sort or another, catastrophes so widespread, so unselective that the war is over because that nation or planet has ceased to exist. What we do is entirely different. We make war as personal as a punch in the nose. We can be selective, applying precisely the required amount of pressure at the specified point at a designated time. We've never been told to go down and kill or capture all left-handed redheads in a particular area, but if they tell us to, we can. We will._

_We are the boys who will go to a particular place, at H-hour, occupy a designated terrain, stand on it, dig the enemy out of their holes, force them then and there to surrender or die. We're the bloody infantry, the doughboy, the duckfoot, the foot soldier who goes where the enemy is and takes them on in person. We've been doing it, with changes in weapons but very little change in our trade, at least since the time five thousand years ago when the foot sloggers of Sargon the Great forced the Sumerians to cry "Uncle!"_

_- Robert Heinlein, Starship Troopers_

_**ILS Once More Into the Breach , The Bahak System- Urdnot Jak **_

_**February 24th, 2176**_

The shuttle bounced and bucked as it entered into the atmosphere, and Jak grinned at her warriors in anticipation. They bared their teeth right back. The other occupants of the shuttle were not quite so enthused.

"Idiots. You're all too young and stupid to know what we're getting into," Jorgal Leerj sneered. Jak almost called him on his cowardice, then remembered that he was the one who bore the badge of an N7. And had done battle with the foe they were likely to encounter on the planet below.

Another of the Ns hawked and spat, grimacing at the deck. "Three more goddamn days. I was gonna retire. Got a nice piece of ground picked out. Spend my days relaxing and drinking, maybe terrorizing the local gas bags every once in a while. Then the whole goddamn galaxy decides to go to shit. Goddamn perfect is what that is."

"I can tell by your whining just how excited you are, Massani," the female quarian of the group laughed, inserting a fresh clip into the sniper rifle that was nearly as big as she. "They called me and Leerj straight out of Hell. Where have you been?"

"That's goddamn classified and you know it Veskar. I'll tell you later."

"All righty then, listen up," the leader, the male quarian Jak had talked to earlier said, standing and addressing the entire assembly. "We literally have no idea what the hell to expect down there. Near as we can tell, every last one of these bastards is as likely to be Indoctrinated as not. That means you are to treat all of them as potentially hostile. I don't want a slaughter, but if they look funny or act funny, don't hesitate. Kill 'em."

The warriors nodded. That was the sort of order they could understand. "At the same time, if we CAN find friendlies, it's going to help us. The batarians have given us scanners that should indicate if someone's Indoctrinated or not. Our contact is someone named Sticky. She's a female resistance leader. She's somewhere near the Herr'Gar slums. Other than that, we know don't know nothin'. We're expecting heavy resistance from their ground forces, so if you see someone in a uniform don't ask questions, don't take prisoners, just blast 'em. Got it?"

"Understood," Jak replied for her warriors. She raised eyes to the ceiling and roared. "We shall avenge our fallen! Those who are responsible for my father's death shall drown in their own blood!"

"RAAHHHHAARRR!" her warriors roared back, and Jak grinned at the N7s. "I think we're ready."

The shuttle finally came to rest, and the warriors of Jak's warband stormed out to secure their position while watching for overhead threats. The navy was busy battering the system's defense forces into oblivion, but they weren't quite finished just yet, and total air superiority hadn't been obtained.

That was fine by Jak. More for her to kill.

She encountered her first foes mere moments after her boots touched down on Aratoht. A squad of batarians had taken cover behind a thick protrusion of jagged black rocks, and was peppering her warriors with fire. A few of them were returning fire and charging forward, but the ground was rough and the going slow. Not for Jak though.

With a cry of "Urdnot Wrex!" Jak leapt forward with her biotics, appearing to teleport to her new location by reducing her mass to a negative then propelling herself with a burst of force. She crashed into her foes and punched one of the batarians in the head hard enough to shatter his bones to powder. The blood spray she felt on her armor was glorious; the first ounce of revenge. The next foe she blasted into pieces with her Claymore shotgun, a weapon so massive that only a krogan, or someone with biotic bolstered muscles, could hope to wield it. Claymores had been designed to kill the predators of Tuchanka, and were ludicrously overpowered for dealing with batarians. The first shot drained her enemy's shields, the second reduced him to meaty chunks.

The few batarians were smashed against the rocks when Jak collapsed her biotic barriers in a wave of force. She knelt to catch her breath and recharge her defenses, then stood and waved her warriors forward. Jak's warriors pressed on as more batarians poured from the slums, many of them simple civilians. They were eerily silent, with few cries or shouts normal to battle. Even when they were cut down by fire or blasted to bits with biotics and grenades, they didn't make a sound. Jak felt sickened as she realized that some of her foes were naught but children, tiny hands grasping weapons meant for larger fingers and blazing away at Jak and her warriors. After so many years under the Genophage, it was anathema for a krogan to kill a child, but Jak forced herself to cut them down like any other. She was beginning to understand what Reegar had said about nightmares.

"There is no honor in this!" one of Jak's warriors lamented. "They have no armor, no shields, and there are females, whelps! How can we be expected to kill children when they are armed with nothing more than ancient relics and rocks?"

"You will do as your Oaths demand!" Jak shouted, then bashed the warrior with her head. She had to reinforce her bones with biotics when she did it, but Jak could headbutt as well as any krogan chief. "They are abominations, the Indoctrinated! You will kill them because they are the foe we must face!"

"Yes, Battlemaster," the warrior apologized, ducking his head respectfully. He rushed back into the fray, firing his grenade launcher into a group of school children armed with Molotov cocktails they were hurling at the krogan. As soon as he finished, the warrior bent over and vomited. Jak nearly did the same.

"Sickening, isn't it?" Jorgal Leerj rumbled from behind Jak.

She nodded and turned to him. "You knew of this?"

"I've seen this crap before. Never as bad as this, never whole communities. But I did see a kid that couldn't even be ready to leave his mother's side charge me with nothing but a knife because I tried to take away the Reaper artifact in his owner's mansion. I had to cut him down. I don't have many nightmares about war, I am no soft human or quarian. But I dream of that child, and weep."

Jak nodded, looking at the lifeless bodies of the children. One wasn't quiet dead yet, and struggled silently to her feat, trying to throw her flaming bottle at Jak. Jak shot her in the head. "I think I may have dark dreams of this day as well, Leerj."

_**Outskirts of Herr'Gar, Aratoht - Hevesh the Pleb**_

"Mother, there are soldiers. They are in the settlement, putting the dead to rest. They look strange, not like any batarian I have ever seen. Most of them are large and savage, with eyes like demons and armor thick enough to stop an Overseer's knife."

Hevesh stood, nodding and putting away the ancient transmitter kit. "The League is here. I wonder, are they demons, or are they gods as my Uncle Vreet once claimed they were? "

"They have to be better than the killed," Crelli replied with a shrug. Hevesh's daughter had a similar outlook on life to her mother. A rather brutal one, that sorted people into two groups: enemies and friends. Enemies you killed, friends you helped. And there were very few friends on Crelli's list.

Once they scrambled out of the old sewer pipe that was the site of Hevesh and Crelli's latest hide away, the sounds of battle were clearly audible. Fires had already consumed the lower section of the slums, and the choking smoke was blowing in into Hevesh's face. She didn't take her breath mask off, it was necessary to block the sewer fumes and likely needful on the surface now as well.

The two batarians crept toward the sound of fighting cautiously, using back alleys and sneaking through abandoned buildings. Soldiers were everywhere on the street, and it saddened Hevesh to see how few civilians they had to round up. Most everyone in Herr'Gar had been killed. Even going into the city was dangerous, which was why Hevesh lived in the sewers on the outskirts. Great black pillars that bent the light when you tried to look at them had been put up around the city, and slowly they had killed every man woman and child within a kilometer of them. Hevesh and her daughter steered well clear of them, refusing to even get close. It wasn't worth it.

They finally circled all the way around the city to where the fighting was. Spying one of the alien soldiers, Hevesh pulled out a scanner. He was clean. "Stay here until I whistle for you," Hevesh told Crelli.

Then she stood, raised her hands over her head and walked toward the soldier. "I am Sticky, I have talked with the League soldiers in the skies. They say you are here to free us. Here I am."

The soldier whirled, keeping his gun trained on Hevesh. He was a big brute, of the species Hevesh was fairly certain was called "krogan." "Are you crazy like the rest of them?" he barked.

"No, I am clean. See? I have a scanner. I checked you too. You are clean. I must talk with your Overseer. I see they have led troops into the city. It is not safe. There are black dead stones there. They will turn you into a killed if you remain in the city for long."

"Er, OK. Weyrloc Tarl to Battlemaster Urdnot Jak. I have the batarian called Sticky. She says the city is bad, booby trapped somehow with black stones. I think she's saying that's what makes these batarians so crazy."

He listened for a minute, then grunted and nodded. "The Battlemaster says an N7s just saw one of your pillars. They're evacuating the city. They want me to guard you until they get here. They have a device that can tell if you are crazy or not."

Hevesh nodded, then looked hard at the krogan. "Do you have food? Water?"

"Um, yeah, I guess. They told us not to eat the bodies. Might make us crazy. I certainly ain't gonna touch 'em. The N7's said to burn 'em. There were whelps. Hatchlings. And they just attacked us. I shot one. I think it was a female," the alien shuddered. "A little female. She had a gun. Tried to shoot me. So I shot her. Ancients hold me, but I shot her."

Hevesh just stared at the soldier, then said, "I am hungry. There is little food in the sewers where I must live. Or clean water. If you have some, mighty soldier, will you share it?" Hevesh held hear breath once she had asked. This was the test. To see if everything Unlce Vreet had said was true.

"Take it. I don't think I can eat. Never thought the day would come."

A tingle of shock zapped up Hevesh's spine as she took the proffered food and water. No soldier ever gave anything, or regretted having to kill a child. What sort of creatures were these krogan? She had heard they were demons, angry monsters that ate children and killed with glee. But this one looked like Crelli had after she'd stabbed her first killed. Hevesh whistled.

Crelli was at her side in a moment, and Hevesh shared the clean water and food with her daughter. It tasted like nothing Hevesh had ever had before. It was wonderful; clean, pure, and untainted by the chemicals that crept into the pleb's drinking supply even when they were not camping out in a sewer. Truly, this League must be a wonderful place.

Hevesh and Crelli sat and chewed on the wonderful fare, contented expressions on their faces. The soldier gave both of them all of his rations and promised more if they proved to be clean themselves. Hevesh was almost happy enough that she would have been willing to die right then and there. It had been so long since she was able to eat a carefree meal in the open. How many years had it been since she'd come home to find Naar dead? She couldn't remember.

After a time, a new alien arrived. It looked like a batarian, but it only had two eyes. Hevesh looked at the hands. Five fingers. So probably a human, if she remembered right. "I am Warlord Urdnot Jak. You are Sticky?"

"I am Sticky. This is my daughter, Knife. Are you here to free us? You are too late. Most of the others are already killed. My daughter and I are the last in the resistance I know of."

The human turned a more natural shade of green. Good, she must be happy. "We are going to scan you to see if you are Indoctrinated. If you are, we will kill you."

Crelli nodded as she wiped some crumbs from her face. "That's what you do when somebody's killed. They're an enemy then. You have to kill them, 'cause they are already dead."

Jak turned greener and passed a glowing scanner over Hevesh and her daughter. "Clean."

Hevesh nodded happily. She had been pretty sure she wasn't killed, but you never knew. Everyone she'd ever thought was a friend was dead. Either they became killed or they died another way. Maybe now it would stop.

_**Outpost Charlie Baker Zero, Erszbat - Second Lieutenant Ashley Williams**_

_**February 24th, 2176**_

When the navy pulled up stakes and left the day before, Ash had been worried. They'd said they were coming back, but for all she and the marines under her knew, they were on their own now. Of course, since she was the LT, Ash couldn't exactly express her fears to her marines. Instead, she expressed them Gunnery Chief Nakamura. It was the time honored tradition of the Corps that veteran nom-coms like Nakamura picked up their snot nosed junior officers and dusted them off once in a while.

"What's your recommendation in this situation, Chief?" Ash whispered, keeping her pose confident and assertive. Her words were also confident and assertive, but she was pretty sure Chief Nakamuru could translate them to "oh shit, now what do I do?"

"Well LT," Nakamuru replied, keeping her eyes on the perimeter. "My recommendation is we do what you've told us to for now. Hunker down and see what happens when those metalhead bastards start their drop and try to secure a base like we did. Maybe they'll get as warm a reception too."

Ash snorted. They could only hope. At first, everything had been great with the League's landing. While the troops had been mostly loyal to the government, there had been enough soldiers in on the coup to hamper the loyalists. Plus, a lot of the civilian slaves and plebs had been ecstatic to see soldiers that would save them from the "killed." Whatever the hell that was. Fighting had been fierce, but sporadic, and key strategic locations started falling into League marine hands within hours of their touching down.

And then everything had gone to hell in a hand basket. Suicide bombers. Friendlies that had suddenly gone crazy and tried to claw the nearest marine's eyes out. Apparently, they were the killed. Conditioned sleeper agents of some sort deployed to sow havoc. And a rich harvest they had reaped indeed. The coup batarians had devices that could scan someone and tell you if they were under the whammy, but it didn't do anything to tell you who was just fighting for love of country or because someone had her family tied up to be executed somewhere.

Just when the marines thought they had gotten everything sorted out, the turians had shown up. In a matter of hours, they'd check-mated the navy pukes and forced them to withdraw. Supposedly the squids were now conducting hit and run raids on the turians, and using the new massive super-dreads to prevent them from entering into any sort of station-keeping orbit. Of course, that didn't keep the turians from using a few well timed kinetic strikes to turn the marine high command into hamburger. Things were bad.

But Ash was a Williams. And a Williams never surrendered, no matter how bad things got.

"Alright, we'll play it safe for now. Radio in enemy movements as we can. Tonight, we go scouting. See if we can bushwack a few turian patrols, put a wrench in their operations," Ashley mused aloud.

"As you say LT. If we're going to do a night raid, might want the girls and boys to get a few hours of sack time while they can. They've got that bank back there hollowed out enough that we can fit three or four in there at a time. Well, two if you're gonna stuff big Berk back there, but I hear krogan don't need sleep, just the blood of their foes."

The last bit was said loud enough for the squad's heavy weapons specialist to hear, and Thax Berkal chuckled evilly and adjusted his massive Revenant squad support weapon again. The krogan could wield the enormous mass accelerator one handed, though it took two humans or quarians to operate the thing normally.

Ash smiled and nodded at the chief. "Good plan Chief. Glad I thought of it. Why don't you go tell the troops to catch some shut eye. You and your fire team bed down first, I'll wake you in a couple of hours."

"Call me if anyone needs their diaper changed ma'am," Nakamura yawned, going over to tap the four members of her fire team on their shoulders and lead to the base of the hill the marines were camped out on. They'd hollowed it out as a place to squeeze into if there were any flyovers or a heavy kinetic pounding, though how much good it was going to do them if a dreadnought decided to play was anyone's guess.

Ash turned her eyes back to the perimeter, scanning for anything headed their way. She would do like grandpa did. Hit 'em hard, then fade away like smoke. And never, ever surrender.

_**City of Frerunk, Erszbat - Garrus Vakarian**_

Garrus had descended into a nightmare. The batarians were in open revolt, factions clashing with each other heedless of what the turians were up too. Some pleaded with the Blackguard to save them. Others spat curses and hurled homemade explosives at them. Many cowered in hiding, desperate to get away from the fighting. The turians were trying to restore order; ordering civilians into holding areas where they would be disarmed and monitored. A few were complying. Most were not.

The biggest problem was that none of the fighters had the decency to wear a uniform or identifying markers. Sometimes a batarian would suddenly go berserk and start attacking everyone around them in eerie silence, or screaming about the voices in their heads. No one was able to figure out just how you could tell a batarian who was going to go nuts from one who wasn't. Normally the turians would have simply killed all of the batarians until the fight went out of them, but the batarians were supposed to be allies. You didn't go around slaughtering an ally's civilians unless things got even worse than they were.

As a sniper, Garrus was removed from the melee, ordered to keep watch on the perimeter for hostiles. How in the name of the spirits was he supposed to do THAT? Some of the combatants were children. Garrus had already watched as a child ran into a group of turian soldiers, then exploded. There hadn't been any way to tell the kid had been wired with enough explosives to reduce a block to rubble. And Garrus wasn't about to start shooting children, even if he got orders to do so. He did pick off any batarian who even looked like they might have a weapon. He could do that much.

It was getting dark, and Garrus adjusted his low light filter as he swept the city for possible targets. Slight movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he zoomed in on it. To his shock, Garrus caught sight of a League marine's body armor. Then it was gone again behind a block of buildings. Buildings very close to the forward deployment zone.

"Command, this is Private Vakarian. Possible League operatives in section B-867."

"Understood. Our only units in that area are a Cable fire team and yourself. Link up with them and provide covering fire."

"Copy that. Vakarian moving to rendezvous."

Garrus collapsed his sniper rifle and placed it on his back, drawing his Vindicator assault rifle. He kept low as he hurried along, leaping across several gaps to stay on the roofs and off the streets. That was safer; there were less places to ambush someone on a rooftop. He arrived at the rendezvous quickly, staying on the rooftop and gazing around the city.

It was pretty obvious that once, probably as little as a few days ago, Frerunk has been a beautiful city. The buildings were made of mostly natural materials like stone or wood, with roofs tiled with red clay bricks. Frerunk had been an agricultural center, and it's cobblestone streets were lined with warehouses filled with food and livestock for transportation to the rest of the Hegemony. Even with the fires burning throughout the city and the blacked ruins where orbital strikes, bombs and fighting that had reduced its beauty to ashes and rubble, Garrus could picture the calm, pastoral place it had once been.

Movement sounded on the cobblestones below, and Garrus spun, pointing his Vindicator at the source of the noise. "Victory," he hissed.

"Or death," a turian voice responded, completing the motto of the Blackguards and stepping out of the shadows. "Well, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised to find you where there is trouble, Garrus."

"Nyreen? Yours is the Cabal I'm supporting? Where are the others?"

"Out of action. Taken out by an insurgent. Looked like a little old woman, but she had a bandolier of grenades under her blouse. Killed half the cabal and wounded the rest. I was the only one to get a barrier up in time to get out unscathed."

"Fantastic. So it's just the two of us against Corax knows how many League marines?"

"Looks like it. Think we should radio in and ask for reinforcements?"

"Of course not. We're Blackguards. The two of us should be able to take out at least a platoon by ourselves."

Nyreen thrummed, but she didn't argue. "Where did you see them?"

"This way. Lift yourself up here, we can sneak up on them from above."

Nyreen floated herself up to the rooftop, and the two Blackguards prowled towards where Garrus had first spotted the League marine. When they got close, Garrus held up a talon and the two paused, scanning the area for signs of hostiles. For about two minutes, they didn't see anything. This area was on the outskirts, and was the Blackguards' fallback position. There were some command structures and supply caches, and the area was a valuable target. Security was tight, but most of it was focused on the side of the base toward the city center.

Finally, Garrus shook his head. "Guess I was seeing things. Let's get down and do a patrol, just to be sure," he whispered. Nyreen nodded, and the two slipped down.

And landed right on top of a krogan.

The big brute was knocked down by the turians' landing, and for a nearly fatal moment, Garrus stared at the krogan in shock. Then someone shouted and opened up with a mass accelerator. Garrus sprang away, firing in the general direction of the shots and dragging Nyreen with him.

"You alright?" Garrus yelled, firing a burst over the stone wall he'd taken refuge behind.

"Spirits take that brute, I injured my foot when I fell on his thick head!" Nyreen swore. Bracing herself up, she launched a bolt of biotic energy at their foes then sank back down.

"Command, this is Private Vakarian. Confirm contact with multiple League hostiles. They've got a krogan."

A roar of anger shook the yard, and then Garrus and Nyreen had to scramble away as a hail of rounds from a massive squad support weapon began to shred the wall they were behind.

"Copy that Vakarian. Backup is on its way. Hold until relieved."

"Fantastic," Garrus growled, lifting his rifle to his shoulder, again firing at the krogan. He scored a direct hit, but all that seemed to do was make the monster angrier. The krogan did fall back under cover and wait for his shields to recharge, which gave Garrus some relief.

Another League marine popped up and hurled something at the two turians. Nyreen caught it before it could cover half the distance and sent it spinning back toward its point of origin. An explosion lit the night as the grenade detonated near where the League marines were hiding. Garrus popped off a few more shots with his rifle, rapidly discovering that accuracy on the shooting range and accuracy under fire were two very different things. He did manage to score a few hits, but he didn't think he actually killed anyone. That was disappointing, because the Leaguer's were obviously trying to kill him.

For what felt like hours but was probably closer to three minutes, Garrus and Nyreen dragged themselves from cover to cover, blasting away at where they had seen the enemy. They continued to shoot in that direction long after they received no fire in return. They didn't stop until backup arrived in the form of two more squads of Blackguards.

"How many?" the officer in charge demanded.

"I don't know sir," Garrus panted. "At least a squad, maybe two or three. They had a heavy weapons krogan with them, he was using one of those huge Revenants."

"Hmm. Escort your wounded to the field hospital. We'll sweep the area, pick up the rest of them. I don't see any bodies, but it looks like there's some krogan blood on the ground over there, so you must have wounded a few. Good work soldier."

As Garrus and Nyreen limped back, Garrus reflected that his first contact with the League had felt more like two children throwing rocks at unseen monsters in the dark then an actual battle. He wondered how his foes had felt; if they'd been as scared, surprised and confused as he had been. Probably not. League marines were tough.

_**Outpost Charlie Baker Zero - Ashley Williams**_

"Holy shit, I don't believe we made it out of that one alive," Ash muttered to herself as her squad finally stumbled back to their hidey hole. She was pretty sure they weren't followed, but that squad of turians had put up a hell of a fight. It had been one of their elite Cabal units too, from all the biotic firepower that had been going off right in Ash's face. They'd thrown one of her grenades right back at her, and Ash had only been saved by diving into a refuse heap. She still stank.

"It wasn't that bad LT," Chief Nakamuru cheerfully remarked, much louder than Ash thought was strictly necessary. "We accomplished our goal. We found the enemy's base, scouted it, engaged the enemy, and got out without getting any of ours killed. Though one big baby's been whining about a scratch or something."

"You take a round from a turian marksman and see how you feel," Big Berk rumbled, though he sounded faintly pleased with himself. The krogan had been the first to make contact and the most seriously injured, and Ash was confident that it if wasn't for his brave defense that had driven off the initial turian assault, most of the squad would be dead.

Ash nodded, catching the spirit behind what the Chief was doing. "We did the corps proud today. I'd say our girls and boys are almost ready to go dancing for real, instead of a little shouting match like that. What do you say chief?"

"I reckon so LT. Hopefully we can find a bandaid big enough for a krogan in the medkit somewhere."

The troops chuckled, and Ash could sense their spirits lifting. They'd been scared after being driven off by the turians, but they'd made it back in good order.

"Get some rest. In a few hours, we're probing their lines again. We're still in this war. And we've got a job to do. 'If you can keep your head when all about you/Are losing theirs and blaming it on you', then when you get home the bigwigs will give your ass a medal."

Chief Nakamuru got the sentries back up, and Ash ordered her communications specialist to get a report back to command. She glanced up at the stars, praying that God would see fit to allow their own fleet to come back for them soon.


	42. Chapter 42

"_War does not determine who is right - only who is left."_

_― Bertrand Russell_

_**Saint Titus Hospital, Arcturus Station - John Shepard**_

_**February 25th, 2176**_

"With all due respect ma'am, that medal should be going to Alex, not to me. The Cross of Brotherhood and Honor Under Fire is for heroes. Alex is the real hero, not me."

Admiral Vexxu glared down at John from behind her mask, and John glared right back up at her. He was mostly healed up, though the docs had said he was probably going to need to be kept around for another day or two for observation. He'd had minor wounds in a dozen places, abused his biotics to the extreme, and been dangerously close to neural overload. He'd lived through it. Alex hadn't.

"Lieutenant Shepard. I assure you that Lieutenant Harrington has not been forgotten. She is also being awarded the Cross. Posthumously. You, however, are alive. Dead heroes should always be honored and remembered. But live ones are more valuable. They can keep fighting. That's what I need you to do now, marine. Keep fighting. This war is a long way from won just yet. We're going to need to keep morale up, recruiting up, production up, and that's where you come in. That's why you're getting the Cross. There is the not so minor matter of you saving hundreds of lives at extreme risk to your own life, and singlehandedly repelling a battalion's worth of batarians."

"But Admiral-"

"Don't 'but Admiral' me, Mr. Shepard. You are getting this medal. That point is non-negotiable. If it makes you feel any better, it's going to be Stephen Harrington who pins it on you."

John stayed quiet, doing his best not to look like a petulant child.

"Better. Now, when the Prime Minister and the press come in to inform you that you are receiving the medal, what are you going to say?"

"I take it refusing the medal isn't an option?"

"Not if you want to keep that uniform of yours it isn't."

John sighed and bowed his head, admitting defeat. "I'm going to say that I don't feel as though I deserve the Cross."

"And?"

"But that I am nonetheless honored to be so recognized, and that I will accept it."

"And that you will accept it as the token of your people's gratitude in hopes to inspire others to honor the sacrifice of the fallen?"

"Ma'am, if there is a script, wouldn't it be easier to just give me a copy?"

"Now you're finally talking sense. It doesn't have to be verbatim, but here are the key notes you need to be covering. Think of it as another mission. After this airs, I want recruiting lines to DOUBLE. Do you understand me marine?"

"Yes ma'am."

"I said, did you UNDERSTAND me marine?"

"Oorah ma'am."

"Hmph. Work on that." With that, Vexxu turned and stalked out John's room.

Shaking his head, John laid back down and closed his eyes. He wasn't happy about needing to accept the Cross, but he understood the Admiral's reasoning. And if John was really honest with himself, which was pretty damn hard, he probably did deserve it. Not as much as Alex did, true, but he had met the requirements: To uphold the ideals of the Independent League in the most dire of circumstances, to risk life and limb for his brothers in the greatest traditions of the militaries of the peoples of the League with no thought for himself.

Or, as a carpenter from Galilee had put it over 2000 years ago, "Greater love has no man than this: that he lay down his life for his friends." Opening his eyes, John glanced at the desk at his bedside. On it was a data slate containing religious texts from Earth, Rannoch, and Tuchanka. He'd never exactly been the religious sort, mom hadn't taken him to church or anything. Still, John believed in... Something. He wasn't quite sure what.

He picked up the slate and paged it back to where he'd been reading. The Christian Bible, book of John. It was comforting. Alex had been a Christian. Second Interstellar Missionary. The last thing they'd done before their camping trip had been go to church together. John had done it more out of a lack of other things to do, though he had liked the singing at the very least. Hearing a krogan belt out "Swing Low" was impressive, though the haunting, eerie quality a quarian was able to give to "Amazing Grace" had sent shivers down John's spine.

Quarians. John set the slate down in his lap and sighed. That made him think of Tali. A lot of things made him think of Tali lately. He could only hope that she was alright, that the galactic upheaval hadn't caught her up and killed her as it had so many others. There wasn't much he could do though. Aside from not hearing from her in ages, he was stuck in this bed until further notice.

Or was there something he could do? John eyed the slate. He certainly wasn't a believer, not yet at any rate, but he would do literally anything to get Tali back. And he was feeling pretty depressed and lonely at the moment. He supposed he could use a God right about now. He bowed his head and closed his eyes.

"Sir, this is Lieutenant John Shepard. I'd like to put in a requisition order. Keep Tali'Zorah safe. She means a lot to me, sir. Whatever it takes, keep her safe. I'd do anything to be by her side through whatever trials she faces. If you can bring her back to me, sir, I'll do whatever it takes. Whatever you need me to do, I'll be your man. No matter what trials I face, even if it were to cost me my life. Keep Tali safe, sir. Umm, amen sir."

_**Bulkhead D-37, Omega - Tali'Zorah**_

_**February 25th, 2176**_

"-and look out for Johnny, Ancestors. He's a marine who's brave and strong and he's probably going to want to be in the fighting. Please keep him safe. I don't know the names of any of his Ancestors, but have a talk with them, OK? They'd probably be willing to help out as well, if that's the sort of thing a human's Ancestors do. Keelah Se'lai."

Tali opened her eyes and switched her suit's speakers back on. Now that she could actually go without the suit whenever she wanted, Tali was taking note of all the things the suit did for her. Like making it so that she never had to waste time finding a bathroom, or worry about people seeing her stick her tongue out at them when they were being bosh'tets. Still, it would be nice when the Pilgrimage was over and she could get out of the suit for more than the occasional shower. Not that she was getting many of those these days.

Tali glanced around the bunker. It was jammed with people, not just League races. Anyone they were pretty sure wasn't under Tevos' or Saren's control. Indoctrinated. Tali shivered. It was a horrendous concept, the idea that someone's mind could be taken, destroyed. That they could be remade into something that would gladly kill those they loved or betray everything they once held dear. No matter what, Tali couldn't let that happen to her. She had to finish her Pilgrimage.

Though she couldn't think about Haestrom. Not yet. That was why she needed to keep busy. Don't think, just keep moving. Don't think about Keenah. Don't think about the geth. Don't think. Just work.

And there was a lot to do. Tali was just waking up from a short nap after fixing the life support for Aria's bunker, where the Omega Underground led by Aria, Miri, and Flavus were hiding out. They were going to move soon, and Tali checked her watch. Almost time for the meeting. She stood up from the quiet corner where she'd lain down for a bit, and walked up to the command station. The guards nodded at her, Tali was one of the only quarians in the bunker, and the others didn't wear their suits all the time like she did.

Flavus was alone at the command consol, checking routes and numbers with a grim expression. Though that could just be his face Tali supposed. To her, it looked like turians were always grim and menacing.

"Ms. Zorah. Perhaps I can get your input on a few things for the operation?" Flavus asked, nodding to Tali.

"Sure, I guess. I don't know what you'd need to ask me about though."

"These security systems they have installed. Know anything about them?"

Tali glanced at the readouts and shrugged. "They're pretty good. My school had systems like it on their servers. Not quite the same, but the underlying randomization algorithms were written by the same quarian programmer. It's good code, but it's got flaws like any other code. I've got a few hacking protocols that should be able to get me in pretty fast. It's too bad it's not an older model, then I could just slap omni-gel on it until it opened," Tali joked. Falvus didn't smile. Or maybe he did, it was hard to tell.

"That's good to know. Though I won't ask what you were doing hacking into your school's computer systems."

Tali blushed and studied the display in front of her intently. "My friend was worried about her test scores. So I hacked in to show her they were alright. It wasn't that hard. It's all math, you just have to think about it the right way."

"I see. Well, I am glad you are on my side then. For now, anyway."

Tali glanced up, shocked that Flavus would bring the increasingly widespread galactic war up. The League and Citadel were fighting huge naval battles in the Kite's Nest, but a dozen skirmishes along the border had broken out, and the krogan DMZ had seen at least one major fleet action which had resulted in a strategic and tactical draw with thousands dead on both sides. And all that with the war barely a week old. Neither side was fully mobilized yet, and when they were, the heavens themselves would tremble at the fury of the conflict.

"Relax. I don't intend to open up a new front here and now. If anything, I want to get off Omega so I can let the galaxy know they've been played by the Reapers and their agents. Fighting each other is the last thing we need to be doing at the moment. We should focus on the real problem."

Relieved, Tali nodded in agreement. "Yes. Stopping Saren and Tevos comes first. We've got a lot of innocent people here. It's our duty to save them."

"My duty, anyway. Aria's if she really fancies herself a leader. Miri's out of a sense of loyalty to the woman Tevos once was. But not you. You're an odd one, Tali'Zorah. I keep wondering to myself, what is a quarian pilgrim doing here on Omega? What is a quarian pilgrim doing at all; I thought your people had a homeworld now?"

"Rannoch is our homeworld," Tali spat, her eyes glowing with sudden fury. "I love Earth, and humanity is the best friend the quarian people could ever have hoped for. But my homeworld is still occupied by a hostile force. And I'm not going back to my family until I have a way to help us reclaim it." She tried not to let how hollow those words felt show in her tone. Had the homeworld been worth Keenah?

"So, a zealot then? Not what I had you pegged for. Still, I understand. I wouldn't rest until Palaven were secure if I thought it was in danger."The alien's mandibles trembled slightly. "Which it is. My son's out there, somewhere, probably fighting against your lover. Oh don't look at me like that young quarian. I know all the signs. You've talked about this Johnny of yours too often for him to be just a friend."

"Maybe he is my boyfriend," Tali answered testily. "I don't know. It's been a long time."

Falvus nodded. "I understand. It's been far too long since I've seen my son. I just hope-" he cut himself off as Miri and Aria approached.

"Sorry we're late. Brat needed feeding and apparently I'm the only lactating asari who isn't crazy as a hanar on this station."

"And someone still doesn't like changing diapers," Miri smirked.

"Ha! I remember when mine were small," Flavus chuckled. "Enjoy it while it lasts Aria, and fight for your daughter's future. Sometimes, that's all that's going to keep you going."

Aria's lips curled back in a snarl. "What keeps me going is a desire to kill that blue bitch who raped me. And the fucking Spectre who put her up to it."

"As long as we're all on the same page," Flavus shrugged dismissively. "I've planned our route. Tali's our way in. Thank the spirits she's familiar with the security system. We should be able to get in, kill Tevos, and grab the artifact. I've got a lead lined container that should shield most of its emissions. Hopefully that will be enough."

"Can't we just shoot it or blow it up?" Aria demanded.

Tali and Miri rolled their eyes simultaneously. "Yeah, that would work great, Gimli," Miri snarked. "Hopefully we don't need to find Mount Doom and toss it in. The artifact is made of some sort of superdense semiconductor. Weren't you listening?"

"We can probably just chuck it into Urdak," Tali offered. "Even if it won't be destroyed, no one will be able to get at it."

Aria looked at the two younger women incredulously, but when she glanced at Flavus he nodded. "There is no easy way to destroy a Reaper artifact. Standard procedure is to shoot it into a gas giant like Urdak or into a star. We could probably put it in the reactor core and it would melt down, but I don't want to know what its particles could do to us."

"Fine. Then no more pussyfooting around. Saren and his men are holed up with Tevos in Afterlife. Put the plan in motion. I'll use the hidden passages to get us as close as I can while the distraction team goes to work," Aria ordered.

Tali took another look at the plan and glanced at Flavus. "Is there another way? The second team's going to be slaughtered. The docks are heavily patrolled and they've got heavy weapons all over the place. They won't even get close to the ships."

The Spectre sighed and shook his head. "Not that I can see. If we don't pull some of the security forces off of Afterlife, we're not going to stand a chance. And we've got to be quick about this. I don't know how strong that Artifact is. Some of them seem to work in hours or days. Other's don't do anything until they've been in someone's possession for months. We have to move quickly."

Reluctantly, Tali nodded. She didn't like knowing that all the people she'd come to know over the past few days were likely to die in what ultimately amounted to a distraction. But Flavus was right, she supposed. They were all going to die or worse if Tevos and Saren were not stopped.

Soon after that they moved out. After crawling through what seemed like miles of side passages and ducts for over an hour, Tali began to wonder if they would ever reach their destination. She was much more used to such cramped quarters now, even though she'd spent most of her life on Earth. Absently, Tali wondered absently if this had been what it was like on the migrant fleet, very little space and constant darkness broken only by dim artificial light. Hopefully with less terror and danger.

After an eternity in the ducts, Aria held up a closed fist. "It's just ahead. Signal the others."

Miri touched her comm. " Vendar, is BREAKAWAY ready?"

"Yes my lady. Our warriors are in position now, awaiting your signal," the krogan in charge of team two answered.

"Remember the Kelphic, and Godspeed," Miri instructed.

"Excellent! UP AND AT 'EM BOYS!"

A distant explosion vibrated through the station's decks, and Tali whispered a silent prayer for those who were about to die.

_**Afterlife, Omega - Saren Arterius**_

"Herald, the unbelievers are attacking the servants on the docks. They appear to be attempting to board a ship and flee."

Saren nodded, rubbing his chin with a talon. Flavus' move. He would try to get to the ships. Make a break for the Citadel, alert them to the truth. Saren had jammed communications around Omega, which meant that no one was getting a message out except by ship.

"Have our ships sweep the surface. I'm sure Flavus has sent boarders over the face of the station. If it looks like they are going to take a ship, destroy it. They cannot be allowed to escape."

"At once, Herald."

Saren glanced over at Tevos, who was staring vapidly at nothing. The sphere had worked. Too well, in fact. There wasn't much of a mind left in the asari. That was how it went at times. If you wanted complete and utter control, the mind had to be overwhelmed. When you had a mind as strong as Tevos had possessed, that meant having to totally break it. It wouldn't do for Tevos to suddenly remember who and what she really was, after all. She wasn't even much use as a toy anymore, though Saren had enjoyed a few nights with her just for the satisfaction of screwing an asari who had once been the most powerful woman in the galaxy.

Of course, there were more urgent matters at hand. Flavus wasn't stupid. Even with a two pronged assault on the hanger, he had to know that he wasn't going to succeed against Saren's entrenched positions. Which meant he was planning something else.

"I think it's time, Tevos," Saren declared, standing. "Time for you to cast off that old coat of yours and achieve perfection."

"Oh, do you think so? What about Aria? And my daughters too. Will they receive perfection?"

"In the fullness of time," Saren promised, stroking Tevos' cheek with a talon. "All shall receive the glory of the masters."

Taking the sphere that Tevos now kept on her at all times, Saren activated the master's blessing. Dark energy coursed through the arm that had been grafted onto his body, his own taste of perfection. Saren let the energy coalesce, then directed it into the sphere. The surface rippled, the metal flowing like water. Saren crooked a talon at Tevos, who rested her hand on the sphere. The metal flowed up her arm, digging into Tevos' skin and bone. Tevos screamed in agony and ecstasy.

"Enjoy your blessed perfection, Tevos," Saren laughed.

Tevos scream grew louder, more animalistic. Her head crests extended back and her belly bloated as if she were starving. Her clothes burned at the energy of her transformation, and her skin melted from her body. The scream ended abruptly in a ear shattering wail. The new creature hovered before Saren, it's body a twisted reflection of what had once been asari grace and beauty.

"Go my pet. Find Flavus. Find Aria. And kill them," Saren ordered.

The creature let out another unearthly wail, like a demon of the night winds. A banshee.

_**Afterlife, Omega - Tali'Zorah**_

Tali was working very hard not to throw up. She'd hacked into Omega's security system and disabled most of it, and redirecting the camera feed to her suit. She'd just seen Tevos turn into that... Thing.

"Oh Ancestors, preserve us and protect us," she moaned.

Miri stood, wiping bile from her mouth. "We have to kill it."

Flavus looked like he always did, grim and foreboding. He nodded agreement.

Aria stood staring at the projection Tali had put up, her eyes wide and her face blank, devoid of all emotion.

"YOU BASTARD!" With a surge of force unlike anything Tali had ever seen, even from Johnny, Aria shattered the entire bulkhead between her party and Afterlife. Guards turned to face her, but they were too slow. Streams of force surged from Aria's outstretched hands and slammed into them, sending them flying. "SAREN YOU SON OF A VARREN, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HER!? SHE WAS MINE! AND EVEN THE BITCH DIDN'T DESERVE THAT!"

Tali took up station at Aria's side, blasting any guards who looked like they were trying to get up.

"You three deal with Tevos! I'm going after Saren!" Flavus ordered.

Tali was too busy fighting for her life to respond, more guards were pouring into the large, open dance floor of Afterlife from a dozen side rooms. Using her biotics, Aria was killing most of them before they could respond, but too many were getting through for things to be easy. Miri had an SMG in her hands and was hosing down groups of guards in-between bursts of her own biotics. Tali hacked as many of the doors shut as she could, but the guards already inside were putting up a fierce fight. Aria had exhausted herself for the moment and was crouched, trembling with rage, behind an overturned table.

A blank faced krogan hurled himself at Tali, and she fired until her gun's inner heat warning wailed. Still the krogan came on. Reaching down to her ankle, Tali drew her yr'lin and shoved it toward the krogan's head plates, into the weak spot Patriarch had showed her. She was rewarded with a spurt of blood, then the krogan tackled her and Tali was driven to the floor. She failed wildly for a moment, thinking she was dead, until she realized that the krogan's momentum had been what had completed the charge. He was dead.

Yanking her knife free and scrambling out from under the krogan, Tali drew her pistol and started using tech attacks to cripple the remaining mercs. They were winning! The mercenaries were nearly all dead, they could do this, they would-

An unearthly wail ripped Tali's hopes apart and sent her cowering behind the table next to Aria. In a flare of biotic power, the evil creature appeared next to Miri. With a backhand that looked almost casual, the banshee knocked the girl away. Yes. Banshee. It was appropriate, the creature looked and sounded like the creature from human mythology Tali had seen in vids with Kelly.

"Aria..." the creature sang, it's voice hoarse, with a songlike quality. "Aria... Join me... Come... Perfection awaits..."

"FUCK YOU!" Aria sprang up, tears streaming down her face, and flung herself at creature, her body glowing so bright with power Tali had to look away. "There's nothing left of you Tevos! Nothing left of the woman I loved, all those centuries ago! I thought maybe I could love you again, but I was wrong! All you loved was power, all I loved was power! We were fucking made for each other!"

The two biotics grappled, one a twisted metal monstrosity, the other flesh and blood. Biotic explosions and detonations battered the two combatants as they wrestled. "I know I hurt you before! I didn't realize how wrong I was then. I was blind, and I hope if there's a scrap of you left, that you can forgive me. The tables were turned, and I don't think the wounds you've given me will ever heal. But smashing your bitchy face in was supposed to be a start, DAMN YOU! Why'd you have to go and die before I killed you?!"

The two were too close, locked together in a death struggle. Tali couldn't get a shot in at all. She focused on the few remaining mercs, though the handful that were left seemed just as dazed and confused as she was.

"Well I'm letting you go, BITCH! I'll raise our daughter right. I'll make sure that she grows up safe from monsters like you, even before Saren got hold of you. Your little barbarian vassal can help me with that. So goodbye, Tevos. AND FUCK YOU!"

With a scream of anger and pain, the banshee was flung away from Aria. It lay in a heap of broken tables and chairs, twitching slightly, trying to rise. Aria dragged herself over, unable to even stand and bleeding from more wounds than Tali could count. The asari lifted herself over the banshee that had once been Tevos, and gripped it's head in both hands. Then, with a surge of force Tali hadn't thought Aria had in her, the asari ripped the banshee's head clean off. Black blood fountained from the corpse, and it writhed wildly for a few seconds, then lay still.

Slumping against a wall splattered by the blood of her enemies, Tali gasped for air. The last of their enemies were dead. "Falvus, we've taken care of...of the banshee. All of Saren's men here are dead. Flavus?"

_**Afterlife, Omega - Flavus Vakarian**_

As soon as Aria burst through the wall, Flavus' eyes had locked with Saren's. They had somehow sought each other out through the smoke and explosions. Then Saren had spread his mandibles in a grin. Flavus had done the same. Time to finish this.

Activating his tactical cloak, Flavus sprinted past the mercs who were being ripped to pieces by an enraged Aria, and raced after Saren. The traitor had turned and fled, and Flavus knew where Saren was going. The reactor. He was going to blow this place sky high, burying his tracks. Then he would flee. That was how Saren operated.

Flavus found an air car and hacked it in moments, then sped towards the bowels of Omega. He didn't have much time. He was going to have to go in stupid and blind, which he didn't like. Saren would have this contingency covered. He should have thought about it earlier. Stupid, stupid, stupid. This entire situation had blindsided Flavus from the start. Spirits take them, he had TRUSTED Saren and Tevos! He'd worked with both of them for years! He thought he KNEW them. The Reapers had changed all of that. How long had Saren been working for them? Since Jatar? It was possible, he supposed. And probably something he'd never know.

As Flavus approached the reactor, he set the car to auto-pilot, activated his grav-belt and cloak, and leaped out. He wasn't even halfway to the deck when the car exploded into a fireball. Naturally. Saren was good. Hopefully he wasn't as good as Flavus.

It took more time than Flavus really liked to infiltrate up to the command platform. Saren had a dozen security measures scattered over the approaches, and while Flavus defeated each of them, that took precious seconds. He finally reached the platform and found Saren and two guards. Both guards looked turian in the dim light, but something was... Wrong. They were twisted, like Tevos had been after Saren was finished with her.

"You spawn of a vorcha, you're doing this to your own people!" Flavus snarled quietly. He took out his rifle and put the targeting dot square on the back of Saren's head, and pulled the trigger.

The shot rebounded, reflected by a field of pure black that sprang up around the traitor. Flavus quickly adjusted and dropped the two guards, then rolled away. He was just in time, as a sphere of dark power impacted where he'd lain. He scrambled back, switching his rifle for his pistol.

Saren sprang forward, firing his own weapon as he came. Rounds splattered off of Flavus' shields, and he desperately fired at Saren. The darkness absorbed his shots, and Flavus sprinted away, activating his cloak.

"I should have known the Council would send someone!" Saren laughed, standing and glancing around for Flavus. "Those blind fools probably thought they could just pull the plug and sweep this under the rug! Those idiots will never see the storm coming."

Flavus stayed silent. If this were a vid, he would engage in witty dialogue with Saren. But that would ruin his shot. Instead, he attached a mod designed to pierce biotics barriers to his rifle and took aim as Saren continued to rant.

"The galaxy is doomed Flavus. Primitives and barbarians run roughshod over the great civilizations of the galaxy. And the Council does nothing. I had to act. Had to find a way to secure our people's future. And Sovereign has given to that me."

_Happiness in slavery? Saren, you are a fool. _Flavus fired again, and this time Saren stumbled, obviously wounded. Flavus kept firing, battering Saren into submission. He kept moving , Saren was launching more of those destructive spheres and shooting his pistol, but his aim was thrown off as he was hit by Flavus' rounds. It took half a dozen shots, but finally, Saren fell, blood pooling around him. Flavus put away his gun and radioed Tali.

"Tali, this is Flavus. I'm at the reactor. Saren's sabotaged it. Get a team down here to stabilize it, pronto. I'll do what I can, but this sort of thing isn't my specialty."

"Ok, Miri and I are on our way. We'll be there shortly."

Flavus nodded and starting working on shutting the reactor down. As he had said, he wasn't an expert, but he should be able to lock down the consol for Tali at least, try to find any-

Pain stabbed into Flavus' belly and he fell, head lolling to the side. He looked up to see Saren standing over him, twisted slightly as he clutched at his wounds. A bloody knife was in his talons.

"My master has given me a great many gifts. Not enough to make me invincible, but very, very hard to kill. Good bye Flavus. You League loving traitor."

The knife stabbed down.

_**Primary Reactor Core, Omega - Saren Arterius**_

It was over. Saren had killed Flavus, but the fool had had time to lock down the reactor. Eventually it would blow, but Flavus' friends would put a stop to that. Saren's men were in full retreat at the docks. The true servants were confused now that their mistress was dead and they could no longer hear their master's voice, and the others were too few to make much of a difference. Time to go. There would be another day.

Saren limped to his getaway car, and sped towards his hidden, private dock. He would have to report this failure, and that was bad. Sovereign wasn't the forgiving type. Still, the war was likely to go on. With Flavus dead, those fools had no one the Council would trust. Or who the League would trust. And in the end, that was what really mattered. Soon, things would be disorganized enough that the master could take the Citadel alone. And then, the Cycle would continue.


	43. Chapter 43

_"Those who fear the darkness have never seen what the light can do."  
—Selenia, dark angel_

_**The Temple of Aethame, Thessia - Liara T'soni**_

_**February 26th, 2176**_

For someone about to steal the most sacred artifact of the most advanced race in the galaxy from their most secure facility, Liara felt remarkably calm. Worrying certainly wouldn't do her any good. They'd planned and plotted for days, and now they were ready. Tyri was at the spaceport, securing transport. Liara and Samara were here to "liberate" Vendetta's blue box; his brain, body and soul in one convenient package.

The problem was that said blue box was contained in the large, highly prominent statue of Athame at the very heart of the temple. Liara had a feeling that if Samara hadn't been sworn to her service at this point, the justicar would have executed her for heresy. Come to think of it, when this was all over, Samara probably WOULD execute her for heresy.

"Are you sure you're alright with this?" Liara whispered as they approached the temple together. "I mean, I am asking you to desecrate an image of the goddess."

"My comfort is irrelevant," Samara answered, but she paused, and inclined her head toward Liara. "Though I do thank you for your concern. It speaks to your character. However, this is only an image. I am not desecrating the Goddess herself. If that statue holds the key to the salvation of the Goddesses children, I do not think she will mind our destruction of it. After all, a statue is just a statue. It is our faith that matters."

Liara climbed the last few steps up the stairs, and the justicars made as if to stop Liara and scan her as they always did.

"The doctor is with me today, sisters. Abstain from the usual scans. Time is of the essence," Samara instructed.

For a half a heartbeat, Liara was worried that the justicars would scan her anyway. Which would reveal the seismic drill, armor, and weapons she was concealing beneath her voluminous robe. But the justicars inclined their heads and waved Liara past the scanners. "Of course, my lady."

It hadn't been much of a shock to learn that Samara was the most senior of the justicars, or that she was in charge of temple operations. She was obviously calm, confidant and in control at all times, and the other justicars respected her. With Samara trailing behind, Liara made her way down to her lab. Once they were inside, Liara activated her comm. "We're inside, Vendetta."

"Acknowledged. Bringing reactor core to critical levels now." This was the tricky part. The plan called for the AI to cause a sudden, potentially lethal, spike in the reactor core that powered the Temple Project. If the engineers managed to override Vendetta's controls and stabilize the situation too soon, Liara would never be able to get at the blue box before they were caught. On the other hand, if Vendetta was too successful in destabilizing the core, it wouldn't matter 'd all be dead and the blue box would be washed in enough radiation to kill even the AI. And cause untold millions of casualties in Reldona.

Of course, if the Reapers succeeded, the entire asari race was doomed. It was a desperate gamble to be sure, but it was a calculated one. Vendetta was an AI, and AIs tended to be good about things like numbers and managing situations. But they were just as vulnerable to fate as anyone else.

It took a few minutes, but the evacuation alarms began to blare. The alarms were much louder than normal, thanks to a few minor tweaks from Vendetta. It wouldn't do for anyone to hear Liara cracking open the statue. Liara and Samara waited for several minutes behind her lab's securely locked doors until Vendetta gave them the all clear. They crept through the empty halls, waiting for Vendetta to verify that the next corridor was empty. The AI had long ago co-opted the Temple's security cameras.

It didn't take long to make their way to the main hall, but that's when Liara and Samara ran into problems. "The jusicars have not yet departed," Vendetta informed Liara over her comm unit. "They appear to be maintaining their stations. Under other circumstances, I would find their dedication to duty laudable."

"I had feared the situation would be as such," Samara sighed. "I do not wish to engage my sisters in combat."

"Not to mention they are all too likely to call for backup," Liara grumped. "That's the real problem."

"I can jam their communications if you are able to effectively engage all of them at once," Vendetta calmly replied. "Whatever you do, I suggest you hurry. The engineers will soon have the reactor stabilized again."

Liara stuck her head around the corner and waved to the justicars. "Please, I need your help, I can't carry all of this on my own!" then ducked back around the corner. It had been a rather idiotic plan, but they were short on time.

"May the Goddess grant us favor," Samara murmured as she crouched beside Liara.

Two justicars appeared in a moment, eyes widening as they saw drawn weapons and activated biotics. They reacted instantly, going for their own weapons and lighting off their own powers, but Liara and Samara had the vital half second jump on them. Liara flung one into a wall hard enough to crack the marble facing, wincing at the sound of breaking bones. Samara slashed into the other one with a powerful attack Liara had never seen before. She seemed to draw energy out of her foe, freezing her in place.

"Find peace in the embrace of the Goddess," the justicar intoned, then slammed the other asari against the floor with a sickening wet thud.

"How many more," Liara panted as she dove around the corner, firing a stasis off at justicar sprinting toward her with a drawn weapon.

"There are four," Vendetta's voice replied.

Liara felt rounds pinging off her barriers. Terrified, Liara forced herself to focus. She launched another stasis, but missed her target. Liara felt herself picked up and slammed into the wall behind her, and she began to black out from the blow. She forced herself to stay conscious, launching a warp at the other asari and firing her gun blindly in her general direction. The justicar went down, clutching at her wounded leg.

Panting, Liara turned to Samara, who was dispatching the last of the other justicars. "Did you have to kill any of them?"

"No," Samara answered calmly. "But they will require immediate medical attention."

Grimacing, Liara hobbled over to the justicar she's shot and punched her square between the eyes. The justicar's eyes rolled up into the back of her head, and Liara squirted a liquid bandage into the asari's wounds. Hopefully, she would live.

"There is no time for this child. Quickly, the blue box."

Liara turned and ran over to the statue, placing the drill right where Vendetta had shown her. She programmed the mining device for 10.68 seconds, exactly the amount of time Vendetta predicted it would take to drill through. Depressing the activation switch, Liara gritted her teeth and held the drill as steady as she could, praying that it would take only one attempt to get to the blue box. The drill beeped, and Liara withdrew it from the ten centimeter bore she had just created in the stone hem of Aethame's gown. Reaching a hind into the hole Liara created a mass effect field that would suck the dust and anything else out of the hole. After a few moments, a black shard of what looked like crystal or obsidian floated out and fell into Liara's hand.

"This is it?" Liara asked, turning the shard over in her hand.

"Yes. That is all that remains of the man who was once Pashek Vran," Vendetta confirmed in her ear.

Holding the crystal up to the light, Liara studied it, fascinated by the simplicity of the object. "Not what I imagined this would look like..."

"Doctor. We must leave," Samara stated, causing Liara to turn and blush.

"Sorry. Old habits die hard I suppose." Slipping the shard into a case, Liara followed Samara out into the courtyard where the other scientists had gathered.

Samara nodded to her former comrades in the justicars, the then led Liara to her personal vehicle, the same they'd arrived in earlier. They slide inside and departed, leaving the wails of the temple's alarms behind them. Liara didn't relax until they made it to the space port. Tyri was waiting for them, and together they boarded Tyri's small ship. In a few minutes, they were out of Thessia's atmosphere.

"Cargo Vessel Truthbearer, this is Thessia control. We have become aware of a irregularity in your departure. Kill your acceleration and stand by to be boarded," a crisp voice on the comm ordered just as Samara was completing the FTL drive warm up.

"Think we should listen?" Tyri asked nervously, glancing up at Liara.

Liara shook her head."No. We've got what we need. Set course for the Citadel."

The vessel suddenly blue shifted, and three asari and one AI sprang away into the endless sea of stars.

_**Council Chambers, The Citadel - Councilor Aethyta**_

_**February 27th, 2176**_

"Councilor, there is a message for you on your priority comm line to the Coven."

Aethyta looked up, her blood shot eyes glaring at the secretary. "What do those insufferable idiots want now?" she snapped. "Do they want me to hold their hands and tell them everything is going to be alright? Because it damn well ISN'T going to be alright. We still can't get the League's defensive line in the DMZ and they are wreaking havoc among our colonies out in the fringe. Everything is NOT alright, and it's not going to be for a damn long while. They should just be happy we've militarized to the degree we have, or our losses would be even HEAVIER."

"It's from Matriarch Benezia. She say's it concerns Dr. T'soni," the secretary answered calmly. Nikel knew her Councilor was under a great deal of stress, and she was acting like the professional aid she was.

"It's WHAT? Urgh, sorry Nikel." Aethyta rubbed her forehead, trying to think. What on Thessia was Nezzie doing calling about their daughter at a time like this? The Temple Project was about the safest place Liara could be. "I'll take the call."

"Of course Councilor."

When her former bondmate's image sprang to life on her screen Aethyta glared at Nezzie for all she was worth. "What? Liara is safe Nezzie, I put my best woman on her. Justicar Samara is the best there is."

"That would explain why she was able to take out six other justicars and kidnap my daughter then," Nezzie answered, glaring right back.

Aethyta's mouth flapped open. Of all the things she had expected Nezzie to say, that was not one of them. "What?"

"You heard me! Our daughter has been kidnapped right from under our noses! There was a reactor malfunction at the Temple earlier. They got it under control in record time, but when they went back inside the researchers found six disabled justicars, a desecrated statue, and all of Liara's files from her lab missing."

"How is Samara responsible for all of this?" Aethyta demanded. Her mind spinning. First Saren and Flavus went off the grid, and now this. And somehow Aethyta STILL had to deal with Tevos going rogue.

"Because," Benezia grated, "Samara was last seen with our daughter, loading her into her private air car and making for the space port. She took off with that blasted information broker who you INSISTED was clean, in a rented ship. Now they're taking our daughter, everything on the temple project and goddess only knows what else off to parts unknown!"

"No..." Aethyta whispered, her heart freezing. This was her DAUGHTER. Granted, Liara had no way of knowing that she was actually Aethyta's daughter, but dammit, Aehtyta still loved her. She'd gotten Liara into the Temple Project because she knew how much the girl loved the protheans. It had been a cushy, safe job, better than grubbing around in dig sites at the back end of beyond.

"Yes. And I hope you're satisfied. I didn't want her at the Temple, I wanted her out of politics. I didn't want her dating that information broker, there was enough stigma against her as a pureblood already, not to mention how bad it would be if she ever let something slip. She could end up imprisoned until she was a matron! But no, you had to meddle. You had to get her in there, and now-"

"I am Dr. Liara T'soni," Benezia's image was replaced by that of Liara, standing in formal robes, hands outstretched before her. "And I come to you with grim tidings. At the highest levels of galactic government, in both the Citadel Counsel and the Independent League, a web of lies is being woven. A web that would obscure the truth: the League is not the biggest threat to our civilization."

Aethyta blinked several times, leaning back in her chair. Was this some sort of fever dream brought on by stress and lack of sleep?

"There exists a terrible race of machines known as the Reapers. They live in dark space, beyond the edge of the galaxy. Their only purpose is to kill and destroy. They have done this countless times, for millions of years. They are responsible for the extinction of the Arthenn, the Inusannon, the Zeioph, and most recently, the protheans. I know this because I was attached to the Temple Project, the blackest of black projects of the asari republics."

Blinking, Aethyta glanced out her window and gasped. She ran over, pressing her face to the glass. Below her stood a gigantic image of her daughter, and faint rumblings that sounded exactly like the message at her desk was playing. Aethyta darted out to her secretary, who was staring wide eyed at an image of Liara that had appeared on her own screen.

"-where I discovered a prothean AI, who revealed the truth to me. The Council and League leadership have known of the Reapers and done nothing. They have remained silent. And now, Reaper agents have acted to begin this war between League and Citadel, to weaken us before their assault. They have done this via a method known as Indoctrination, where they twist the mind of any being to their dark purposes."

Aethyta rubbed her eyes, praying that this was all a hallucination. But when she opened her eyes again, Liara's image was still there, still talking.

"I will now allow this AI, know as Vendetta, to speak."

A new image appeared, one of a green, four eyed alien with a wedge shaped head. "Greetings, citizens of the new Cycle. I am Vendetta, the last voice of the protheans. I confirm that the doctor's words are indeed true. When this recording is finished, you will find copies of the data that will prove her veracity. May you use it wisely. This message has been broadcast using backdoors the protheans created in the Citadel communications network during our own Cycle."

With that, the image blanked, and Aethyta ran back to her desk, where Benezia's image was waiting. "Did you see that?" Aethyta demanded. "Did you hear it?"

"Yes," Benezia sighed. "It appears I was mistaken on the subject of our daughter."

_Oh Liara, what have you gotten yourself into?_ Aethyta wondered. She could only pray that it wouldn't completely destabilize the Citadel's power.

_**Shuttle Forlorn Hope, Arcturus Approach - Tyri Hd'vassa**_

_**February 27th, 2176**_

"LOVEBIRD calling NEST, requesting immediate pick up and extraction. Authorization: Xena the warrior princess came home with Gabrielle in her arms."

There was a moment of silence, and Tyri glanced at the shuttle's rather poor instrument display. Those enormous guns were still pointed right at her from the stationary relay defenses.

"Ok, 'Lovebird,' you're inbound from Thessia. Explain to me just what the hell that was about, before I decided to blow you into dust."

Tyri's throat constricted, and she rasped out," I am a returning deep cover asset from Thessia with vital intel. That's my clearance signal, check with the LIN."

There were a few more moments that dragged on into eternity, and Tyri did her very best not to moan in panic. Why oh WHY had she allowed Liara to convince her to go through with this? Probably because if she was still in love with the girl. It had all seemed so simple at first. Seduce the young, vulnerable, beautiful pureblood and get information from her. Except in the end, it had been Liara, with her earnest charm and boundless hope, who had seduced Tryi. That was all gone forever. Now she was just going to be blown to bits by the very people she'd worked for, the people who she'd betrayed Liara for. It seemed right, in a twisted sort of way.

"LOVEBIRD, this is Agent Mohammad. Proceed to these coordinates immediately on the designated course. If you deviate, you will be destroyed."

"Yes, alright, thank you," Tyri babbled, and punched in the flight plan. She slumped back in her chair, breathing hard. She was pretty certain that if she were a human, she would be drenched in sweat right about now.

It took several minutes for her shuttle to arrive at the designated coordinates, where a League cruiser was waiting for her. Its docking clamps latched on to the shuttle, and Tyri was jerked around a bit as her momentum was arrested. She heard the sound of a seal being established via a boarding tube, and a few moments later, a knocking sound came from the hatch. Tyri opened it to find a group of League marines in battle armor with their assault rifles pointed in her face.

"Don't shoot!" she squeaked, throwing her hands up in panic. "I'm unarmed and alone!"

"We'll just see about that," a quarian growled. "Search her!"

Tyri was roughly stripped and thoroughly searched and scanned. She tried to relax and just let it happen; fighting back would only make things worse. Finally, the marines seemed to be satisfied. They handed Tyri back her clothes, and she was shoved down the docking tube. She landed on the deck at the end of the tube with significantly less than her normal grace, and scrambled to her feet. A human in the uniform of the League Intelligence Network was waiting for her.

"Agent Mohammad?" Tyri asked hopefully.

"Indeed. Take her to the communications room. No need to be gentle."

Tyri was manhandled into a lift, then moments later roughly shoved into an empty room with a holo display in the center. She glanced around fearfully, clutching onto the data pad she'd been allowed to keep once it had been determined it had nothing dangerous on it. The image of a female quarian appeared on the holo display, her eyes blazing from behind her mask. "Well. Tyri Hd'vassa. I didn't think I'd ever actually see you in League Space. Mind telling me why you're here, and with your' personally secure but danger imminent' pass phrase? Why was this not reported earlier from Thessia, or Ancestors help me, before Kelphic or the Blitz?"

"I just found out," Tyri whispered, holding out the data slate like a shield. "Please, I didn't have any choice. She made me come, told me I had to tell you."

"Who?" the quarian demanded.

"My contact, Dr. Liara T'soni."

"Your contact was AWARE that you were our agent?"

"Yes, I'm sorry, she was too strong! I thought I could control the meld, but she over powered me, saw into my mind. She's known everything for almost five years." Tyri prayed the quarian didn't know enough about asari biology to realize that the reason she'd slipped and let Liara in fully was because she'd fallen for Liara.

The quarian's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You've been compromised for five years? Why didn't you call in sooner?"

"Yes, I mean no, I don't know!" Tyri wrung her hands in consternation, then held out the data slate. "Please, everything is on this slate! Let me transmit the data to you, it will explain everything, how the Indoctrinated agents caused the war, how it's the Reapers fault!"

"Reapers? Transmit that to me now."

Hurriedly, Tyri hooked up the slate and began to transfer the files to the quarian at the other end. "This explains everything, I'm so sorry, this was all Liara's idea. She wouldn't let me tell you over our QEC, she made me show her how to use it and she kept it for herself."

"Where is Liara now?"

"I don't know. She said she was going to go somewhere safe, but after the message she sent the Council, I have no idea where that might be."

_**Many Waters Meet, Kahje - Watches the Stars and Awaits Enlightenment **_

_**February 28th, 2176**_

"This one has been directed to be your flight assistant today. How may this one serve you, Truthbearer?"

Watches hummed to himself as he floated happily in the control rooms waters. Moving back to Kahje had been the right move. The Citadel was too stressful these days, with arrogant humans, curious quarians and aggressive krogan stomping around and cluttering up the space lanes. Kahje had far less traffic, and was much less stressful.

"This is Vendetta, who was once the man Pashek Vran, who was of the race known to the hanar as prothean. I come seeking sanctum for myself and those aboard this vessel."

Watches stopped humming and twitched in irritation. It wasn't unheard of for some misguided soul to try to pass themselves off as an Enkindler. "This one does not find your joke amusing, Truthbearer. This one would seek to remind you that the Primacy is in a state of war. Passing oneself off as an Enkindler is a capital offence."

"I understand. In the days of the Empire, those who attempted to impersonate government officials were stripped naked in the city square and flayed alive. Nevertheless, I am prothean. Or, I was once prothean. Now I am but a memory of a prothean, a mind trapped inside a memory shard. But I assure you, child of the ocean waves, that I am indeed what I claim to be. Within my memory banks is stored the saga of when my people descended upon the world you know as Kahje. Of how we guided your peoples' evolution, as we did many of the races of the galaxy. It reflects poorly upon your people that one such as I is received so coldly."

Watches paused, mentally referencing the volumes of protocol and procedure he had memorized. There was nothing in there about what to do if a real Enkindler showed up. And for some reason, Watches felt that now, his true name was about to be made real.

"This one apologizes for its disbelief. How might this one serve the Enkindler?"

"By giving my ship a flight path and docking clearance," the Enkindler responded.

"Of course. This one will comply immediately."

Watches alerted his supervisors, and happily began to fill out the necessary paperwork. He would have to create most of the forms and it would be a truly monumental task, but Watches was confident that it would be worth it for the return of the Enkindlers.

_**Many Waters Meet, Kajhe - Thane Krios**_

_**February 28th, 2176**_

Unlike the hanar, the drell did not revere the protheans. Thane was a religious man and understood and respected the hanar's beliefs, but was not likely to worship the ground a prothean walked upon. Which was why Thane stood with the hanar delegation awaiting the arrival of the theoretical prothean that was aboard the Truthbearer. The hanar were likely to be blinded by religious devotion, and unlikely to notice any security threats. It was possible they were being duped after all, and it was Thane's duty to keep his employers safe.

The boarding ramp descended, and Thane kept his eyes peeled as two asari stepped off. He didn't see any sign of a prothean, and Thane readied himself to strike. Then a hologram appeared, showing the form of a strange looking alien with four eyes and a wedged shape head, in a full suit of armor.

"Greetings. I am Vendetta. The asari who accompany me are Dr. Liara T'soni, one of the foremost experts on the protheans culture before I met her. I have...corrected several of her views upon my people. The other is her bondswoman, Samara. They are to be treated as you would treat a prothean, for they have earned the right to citizenship within the Empire, did it still exist, for their great service."

"This one must express disbelief," one of the hanar spoke up. "This one sees only a hologram. Others have attempted to fool us with such devices before."

One of the asari, the one the hologram had referred to as Dr. T'soni, stepped forward and reached into her robe for something. Thane was across the intervening distance in a flash, but walked into the fist of the other asari. She was fast, and well trained. Thane had barely seen her move. He spun back around, drawing his pistol as he dodged her next blow.

"Samara!" Liara cried.

"Ser Krios, please allow the doctor to show us the item before killing her. This one knows of Dr. T'soni's work regarding the Enkindlers. She is one of the best in her field. This one would not be surprised if she did indeed possess an Enkindler AI."

Bowing, Thane retreated slightly, keeping his hand on his pistol and his eyes glued to Samara. She was calm and poised, but her muscles spoke of power ready to move without hesitation. A dangerous woman.

The other asari drew out what appeared to be a crystal fragment. "This is Vendetta's blue box, he refers to it as a memory shard. I stole it from the Temple of Aethame on Thessia. I have brought it here after Vendetta aided me in telling the galaxy the truth behind the current war."

"This one has seen your recording from the Citadel. What would you have us do, herald of the Enkindlers?"

Liara smiled, bowing slightly to the hanar. "I seek refuge from my enemies. I know that the Illuminated Primacy would be open to the truth. I seek to spread the truth of the Enkindlers', that their work might continue on. That the fight against the Reapers may begin in earnest."

Thane watched Liara out of the corner of his eye, judging her words. It appeared she was telling the truth. "From what I have seen in the field, the Reapers are real, honored ones," Thane put in. "This asari may speak the truth. I have run across agents of both the League and the Citadel who were in pursuit of these Reapers. I know not what they are, only that dangerous men and women fear them."

The hanar floated thoughtfully for a moment, then one spoke up. "This one will gladly grant you shelter in this storm, Dr. T'soni. The Primacy will aid those who are the allies of the Enkindlers. May their wisdom guide us to new waters."


	44. Chapter 44

_I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones._

_-Albert Einstein_

_**Independent League Embassy, The Citadel - Zaal'Koris **_

_**March 1st, 2176**_

"All I can say is that this T'soni sent a message to the entire Citadel. It was on all my screens, even though all outside communication save for the QEC is blocked. She was openly talking about the Reapers,. Accusing us and the Council of having Indoctrinated agents in our ranks. Aside from that, I can't tell you much. You have the recording."

Prime Minister Donnel Udina frowned, resting his right elbow in his left hand and using his right hand to rub his chin. "Hmm. That correlates with what our agent is telling us. Perhaps there is something to it after all. Still, I don't know that it's a good reason to cease hostilities. The public is out for blood. I'm out for blood. The Council needs to pay for what they've done."

"With all due respect Prime Minister," Admiral Vexxu interjected. "Ceasing hostilities is probably a very good thing. We're still cleaning up the mess in the Kite's Nest. They DID have a Reaper corpse. An entire colony of theirs was Indoctrinated, and they were shipping out loads of Indoctrination beacons. We need to take time to clean house, find any Indoctrinated agents in our own ranks."

"I agree," Admiral Steven Hackett stated. "We're also pretty badly bruised from this war. We've lost hundreds of ships and thousands of army and navy personnel. Then there's hit the krogan have taken. We need time to rebuild, especially where STARGATE is concerned."

The Shaman of Tuchanka's image nodded. "And these Reapers are likely to prove to be the larger threat. My daughter has told me of their devices, of how they poison minds. Even the Bloodsworn's bloodlust against the batarians has slackened. The Reapers are a danger unlike anything we have ever faced, and far more worrisome than the Citadel."

"The Citadel isn't open to a peace treaty," Zaal cautioned. "However, at the same time I don't think they are ready to go on the offensive. Not when they've had traitors in their ranks exposed. One of their top agents, Saren Arterius, has gone rogue along with former Councilor Tevos. Both of them are suspected to have been Indoctrinated. And frankly, they were probably the ones behind the attacks on our colonies and the Kelphic- not the Council. We received word of that from Omega just a few hours ago. If we were to simply stop fighting, keep the systems we have and not press the offensive further, I think the Citadel would accept that, for now. We've carved the batarian systems pretty much in half, and things have bogged down. Our lines haven't moved in days."

"The batarian's don't have a government anymore," Hackett snorted. "Their leadership was almost universally Indoctrinated. We're still sifting through the wreckage, but the planetary populations under our control are begging for the League to step in and take over. They could be a tremendous asset if given time to rebuild."

"What about the Reapers? When are they supposed to materialize?" Udina demanded.

"Based on our sources, soon, Prime Minister," a new voice spoke, and the image of the Illusive Man flickered to life on the already crowded conference display. "I apologize for my lateness. I've just arrived back from the Mars archives. We've confirmed most of the data in the packets from agent LOVEBIRD. She's probably telling the truth, at least from a historical standpoint. This raises serious issues. According to LOVEBIRD, the Reapers are supposed to return in the next few decades, and they already have active agents throughout the galaxy. We've started to scan our own ranks with the devices the batarians have given us. So far, we've not turned up anything. But that could change."

Udina started. "You don't actually think we may have traitors in our own ranks, do you?"

"I would be very surprised if we turned out not to," the Illusive Man answered mildly. "Perhaps not as many as the Citadel, or as highly placed. But we're going to have to be extremely careful."

Vexxu nodded her agreement. "Yes. We're going to have to install scanners at every secure location, make scans for Indoctrination a part of all routine medical checkups. The technology is fairly basic and easily replicated, it's just a matter of knowing what to look for."

"Indeed," the Shaman agreed. "And perhaps we were hasty to cry out for the blood of the Citadel. True, members of their races caused the devastation, but it looks like the majority of those who took part in the attacks were either Indoctrinated themselves or operating under the orders of those who were. I believe this has all been a ploy by the Reapers to weaken us. They must fear us. We cannot allow ourselves to be trapped in a war with the Citadel."

"Nor can we afford to turn our backs to the Citadel," the Illusive Man argued. "They are dangerous, and they have the potential to destroy us. I've got agents working on the salvage we've recovered, as well as developing countermeasures for their stealth systems and those Thranx cannons."

"Hmm. Very well. Koris, can you make peace? Or at least negotiate a cease fire?" Udina demanded.

Zaal hesitated, then nodded. "I think I can persuade the Council. They've got a lot of things to worry about, and as I said, as long as I don't try to demand anything from them, I can put a temporary stop to hostilities."

"Do it then. Don't give them anything, but don't ask for anything either," the Prime Minister ordered.

Steven Hackett spoke up. "What about prisoners? We've got an awful lot of each other's soldiers on worlds in batarian space that have changed hands. Offering to exchange them could be a sign of goodwill. No tricks."

"Yes, that might be wise. We can't afford the personnel losses," Udina mused. "Very well, offer them that at least. But no territorial exchanges. We're certainly not pulling out of the Hegemony."

"Understood. I'll get on that immediately," Zaal agreed.

The images of the most powerful beings in the League faded, and Zaal put in the codes of the Citadel Council. In a few minutes, all three appeared on his holo displays.

"Councilors," Zaal nodded politely.

"Ambassador," Sapias nodded back, a bit stiffly. "What is this about?"

Getting right to the point, Zaal explained, "I've been instructed to offer a cease fire and prisoner exchange. No changes in who controls what territory currently, just a temporary cessation of hostilities while we all clean house."

The three Councilor's images froze as they conferenced privately. They were back in less than a minute. "Agreed," Aethyta sighed. "Full prisoner exchange and a temporary cease fire along current lines."

"But nothing else," Valaren glared at Zaal. "We've lost too many soldiers to consider peace just yet."

"I think we're in agreement on that particular point," Zaal half snarled.

So many had died in the past 13 days. It hadn't even been two weeks, and the combined death toll was over ten million. When you factored in the batarians, it climbed much higher than that. To say there was bad blood between the Citadel and the League would be understatement. Zaal considered himself a peaceable man, but he wouldn't be opposed to having the heads of the three individuals he was negotiating with on a pike. And all that before either side had managed to fully mobilize. The war hadn't even truly begun yet. Now it was ending, or at least taking a breather.

"Fine. We'll notify our fleets that the cease fire is effective immediately," Sapias thrummed. "I expect you will do the same."

With that, all three Councilors vanished from Zaal's comms, and he took a deep breath, resting his hands on the metal railing that ran between his consol and the holo displays. It was over. For now.

_**Council Chambers, the Citadel - Councilor Aethyta**_

"I can't believe Koris actually asked for a cease fire," Valern mused, shaking his head in astonishment.

"Damn lucky for us he did," Sapias stated. "We are standing on the edge of a pit. If the League had pressed us, who knows what would have happened? We've already found three more Indoctrinated agents in the Hierarchy. None of them highly placed officers, but clerks, secretaries, people with access to highly classified data. If they'd been allowed to cause further damage, it might have doomed us."

Valern nodded. "And then there is the situation with the hanar. The Primacy is threatening to secede from the Citadel. That Doctor T'soni needs to be eliminated before she causes further damage."

"No," Aethyta stated, her voice firm and cold. Both of the other Councilor's turned to look for her. "She exposed dangerous traitors, and is working against the most dangerous foe we've ever known. Leave her be."

"But the damage she caused, the damage she might cause in the future!" Valern protested, blinking rapidly in irritation.

Aethyta leaned over, baring her teeth in a primal grimace. "Councilor, if you or the STG touches Dr. T'soni or Justicar Samara, it will be the Republics who call you to account, not the Primacy."

"Just because she is-" Valern began, but this time Sapias interrupted him.

"You have no children, salarian. Leave the Councilor's daughter be. Aethyta is right. We should not reward truth with death. It was a hard truth to hear, but if the poison had spread further, if the war had gone on, what then? The Reapers played us for a purpose. Why? We need to find out. And I think Dr. T'soni is our best bet for doing that."

"Fine. Then what do you propose we do with this peace we have been given? Yes, the Reapers are the real threat, but the League crouches at our doorstep. We can hardly ignore them, and this peace will not last," Valern declared.

Aethyta snorted. Salarians were so short sighted. "Of course it will not last. That is the point. But next time, we shall be able to strike the first blow, and be unhampered by traitors when we do so. Our economy, even with the loss of the batarians and hanar, is a hundred times that of the League. Every moment we delay is more beneficial to us than to them. We build more ships, with better technology. Those super-dreadnoughts and mobile relays will need to be copied. We'll be able to arm all our ships with Thranx cannons, which have proved to be far superior to anything the League has on their ships save the super dreads. And you can start sharing that stealth tech with the rest of us."

"All good points, but you forget the most important one," Sapias argued. "We need time to rebuild our morale. Our troops have lost a great deal of faith in their leaders, in us. This peace will give us time to restore their confidence. If our troops don't believe in what they are fighting for, all is lost."

"Then let's not waste more time with the League. We've been given precious time. We need to use it." Aethyta brought out a data slate. "Thessia is going to be opening its eezo reserves. I've managed to quash the environmentalists and other factions. When death looms, having a pretty planet doesn't seem half so important. Now, with this new stealth drive on our carriers, I think that we-"

Aethyta and the other Councilors went about the business of rebuilding and preparing. Quietly, Aethyta praised the goddess that she'd managed to save her daughter's life. It wasn't much, but now there was hope for at least one person Aethyta loved. She would make the galaxy a safe place for her people, even if she had to drag them there kicking and screaming all the while.

_**ILS Oathbearer, the Bahak System - Urdnot Jak**_

_**March 3rd, 2176**_

Five hundred eighty three. Out of a system of over 300,000 souls, the League was taking home five hundred eighty three. Jak shook her head. That was far too many batarians on her ships, and yet it was also far too few. She watched as the League fleet's kinetic bombardment of Aratoht continued. The Reaper corpse had been towed into a star. The system was going to be quarantined, with drone patrols controlled remotely from well outside the system boundaries. The entire star system was contaminated.

Jak glanced over at the two grim faced batarians on her command deck. Hevesh and Crelli showed no sign that their birth world was being reduced to a radioactive slag heap. Considering the horrors Jak had seen in her brief time there, she couldn't blame them.

Currently, the scarred N7 was talking to Crelli, describing what life was like on Eden Prime, a world he planned to retire to. Crelli was listening quietly, but her eyes shone with interest at Zaeed's description of a world that was still green and full of life, where children did not strap bombs to themselves and run dead-eyed to battle. Where life could be peaceful and worth living. Hevesh was listening as well, munching on a ration bar that Zaeed had given her. The two batarians seemed content, strangely free of hate for the people who were even now destroying the only home they had ever known.

And try as she might, Jak couldn't bring herself to hate these batarians either. They were people. GOOD people. People that had done their best to help Jak, had welcomed her and her warriors with open arms. People who had hopes and dreams, people who loved each other and looked at Jak the same way she had looked at her da. Savior. Redeemer. Rescuer. But they were her oathsworn enemies. By rights, Jak should take out her knife and gut them where they stood.

But she wasn't going to do that. There had been enough death in the Bahak System already.

In a quiet place in her soul, Jak forgave Hevesh and Crelli. Forgave them for kidnapping a little girl oh so long ago, for her family being slaughtered before her eyes, and for shattering her world as much as theirs had been shattered by the Reapers.

It was the path to redemption. Not for the batarians, but for a girl who had once been named Jennifer Carmichael. Who, in another time, would have been known as Subject Zero. Jak let go of the past.

Ahead lay the future.

_**City of Frerunk, Erszbat - Garrus Vakarian**_

_**March 6th, 2176**_

Garrus watched as the last of the League marines stepped onto the League transport. At first, the Leaguers hadn't believed it when the turians announced the cease fire and that the marines were entitled to return to their own system, via transport provided by the Hierarchy. None of them had come out of hiding, and the guerrilla war had claimed a few more turian, batarian, and Leaguer lives. Once the League diplomats had showed up and given the all clear though, they'd slowly come out of their hidey holes across Erszbat. For Garrus Vakarian, the war against the League was over, for the time being.

That didn't mean the fighting was over. Garrus turned back to the city of Frerunk. The batarians were being rounded up and placed in camps to be checked for Indoctrination. It was a nasty, dangerous job. More than a few generals and admirals were arguing that the entire planet should just be allowed to rot on the vine. But the Primarch and General Victus disagreed. Once a batarian was given a clean bill of health, they were put to work rebuilding their shattered lives. Many of them were grateful once they'd been declared clean. But not all of them.

So far, there hadn't been any open fighting. The Hierarchy was clamping down hard on that; anyone confirmed to be a looter, resistance fighter, or trouble maker was executed on the spot. A lot of those had been happening lately. Many of them performed by Garrus. Meter by bloody meter, one batarian at a time, Erszbat was being cleansed of the taint of the Reapers.

Just as Garrus was about to head back out on patrol, his comm squawked to life.

"Vakarian, report to the command tent immediately. Spectre wants to see you."

Garrus' heart leapt for joy! His father had made it through the war as well. He hurried to the command tent, eager to see the eldar Vakarian. He had a lot to talk about with his father. Garrus was more than just a recruit now, he was a battle hardened veteran. Erszbat has been his first real fight, but it had been a terrible and bloody one. He'd even clashed with League marines and come out of it alive.

When he ducked into the command tent, Garrus's high spirits immediately sank. A grim looking Nihlus was standing with the commander, who bowed his head when Garrus entered. A sign of mourning.

"Garrus," Nihlus said, coming over and resting a hand on Garrus' shoulder. "I've come with news of your father."

"Where?" Garrus asked dully. His father's fate was already obvious.

"Omega. Stopping a traitor Spectre, one that was Indoctrinated by the Reapers. He succeeded in putting an end to the traitors and shutting down their operations. But the traitor killed Falvu before he died."

"Who?" Garrus snarled, his head fringes rising in a display of anger and hostility.

"Saren Arterius."

Filling away the name for later, Garrus stiffened and saluted. "Thank you for bringing word, Spectre Nihlus. I'd better get back on patrol. I don't want to leave my comrades alone. That's what my father would have wanted."

"Not quite. Your commander tells me that you've been an invaluable asset. Stopped a League attack. Led a dozen suppression missions successfully."

Captain Bren nodded. "Indeed he has. Young Vakarian is an excellent solider. One of my best."

Garrus tried to smile in pride and thanks, but his mandibles just wouldn't spread. His father was dead. At the hands of another turian. "If I'm such a good soldier, shouldn't I get back to work?" Garrus tried to sound respectful, but the question came out sullen and hostile.

"You should. But not for the Blackguard. You've been selected for Spectre training," Nihlus explained. "i asked that I be allowed to tell you. This you father would have wanted for you, Garrus."

Slowly, Garrus nodded. His father might be dead, but his spirit would live on. Garrus could take up his father's mantle, serve as the protector of the galaxy his father had been. "I see. When do I start sir?"

Right then and there, Garrus determined that nothing would stop him from becoming a Spectre. His father had died to protect the Citadel and its peoples, flawed as they were. He had upheld and exemplified all it meant to be a Spectre, and more importantly, to be a turian. If that was the road Garrus needed to walk to live up to his father's legacy, he would do it.

Nihlus smiled. "Right now. I've got a mission for you. There are batarian hold outs on a moon called Torfan. I've got other things I need to handle, but you've made a name for yourself here with handling insurgents. Think you can handle it?"

"I'm going to need some big guns first."

_**Afterlife, Omega - Miri Goldstein**_

_**March 14th, 2176**_

"You're sure?" Miri asked, raising an eyebrow at Aria.

She was sitting in the refurbished Afterlife, once more the seat of Aria T'loak's power. Things had changed rather dramatically. No longer was Afterlife a den of hedonism and filth. Now it was a refugee camp, where those damaged by Tevos and Saren's reign could come. And where people could be scanned by the new devices batarian refugees had brought that could tell if someone was a Reaper agent.

The re-instated queen of Omega nodded, scowling fiercely at Miri . "Yes I'm sure, though if you ask me again I might just change my mind. Send for your kid sister. Omega's going to be a different place from now on. One where it's safe for a kid to grow up. Besides, my brat is going to need a nanny. Might as well be a quarian one."

"And what about me? What do you intend do with the girl who foiled your coup attempt?"

Aria sighed, her expression turning halfway mournful. "Honestly, I'd love to nail your hide to a fucking wall. But I won't. I'm going to need you. You served Tevos well and loyally, while she was still herself. I want you to do the same for me. Both of us have our reasons to hate the rest of the galaxy in general. Omega will be a refuge for those who don't want anything to do with either side. It's not going to be a utopia, but it won't be the wretched hive it once was. It will be a place someone can raise a family. Where they don't have to worry about political bullshit."

"A refuge then," Miri mused. "That does sound somewhat appealing. And Ori is just about old enough to take care of herself now. She's fourteen after all."

"So are you going to send for her, or am I going to have to find a new babysitter?" Aria demanded.

"I'll send for her. I'll serve you as I did Tevos, with the same deal. Protection for Ori. Thessia isn't safe for her now, not with Tevos gone. I was planning on moving her, but I wasn't sure where. Omega seems as good a place as any."

"Glad we worked that out, then." Aria smiled then, her eyes turning distant. "Who'd have thought that it would be the two of us who retook Omega?"

"No one I can think of," Miri agreed. "But we still have work to do. If this place is going to be a refuge, we need to prepare. The Reapers ARE coming. And they are far more dangerous than the League or the Council."

"Agreed. Speaking of the League, where's your quarian friend, Tali?"

"She left. Said it was time for her to go take care of something she'd been putting off."

"Ah, back on that Pilgrimage of hers?"

Miri smiled. "Not precisely."

_**Saint Titus Hospital, Arcturus - John Shepard**_

_**March 16th, 2176**_

Grunting, John lifted the weight set, muscles straining as he finished his reps. In another week, he'd be back on active duty. Originally he'd been scheduled to return ten days ago, but with peace breaking out he'd been ordered to take another 17 days of rest on the suggestion of his doctors. He didn't mind too much. With no fight to rush back to, John wasn't in any hurry. The food was OK, the staff was nice, and they had a great gym. Plus, if he was really honest, John knew he wasn't at 100% just yet.

"Lieutenant, you have a visitor," the voice of one of the physical therapists interrupted John, and he grunted as he set the weight down and lay back on the bench.

"If it's another reporter, tell them I'm too tired to talk to them. I thought you guys were screening them now?"

"Well, if you really don't want to talk to me, I guess I can come back later," a melodious voice mused.

John sat up so fast he banged his head into the bar hard enough to leave a gash on his forehead. "Tali?"

"Oh Keelah, doctor!"

John couldn't see anything through the blood that was now filling his eyes, but he rolled to his feet anyway, trying to walk towards the voice. "Tali? Tali where are you!"

Gentle arms wrapped around his waist. "Shhh, I'm here you bosh'tet. Hold still, the doctor has a bandage and some medigel for you."

John complied, hugging Tali tightly to him as a chuckling doctor patched his wound and put a wrap on it. "Geeze, and here I thought we could let you go in a few days son."

"I'll be fine, thank you doctor. Could we have some privacy?" John murmured, resting his chin on top of Tali's envirosuit.

"Oh of course. I'll be outside if you decide to injure yourself again."

John waited for the door to close, then tilted Tali's head up so that he could look into her eyes. He was disappointed she had the mask on, but he wasn't going to complain. She was back. "I missed you. I thought of you constantly. Where have you been? What gift have you brought back? Are your parents here?"

"Johnny..." Tali began, averting her eyes. "I'm not back. Not really. I haven't' finished my Pilgrimage."

"What? But you've been gone for nine months! I haven't even heard from you since September! Surely you can come back now. There was a war you know. With the Reapers out there..."

"I know," Tali sighed, laying her head against John's chest. When she continued, her voice was muffled. "I just came to tell you I loved you, Johnny'Shepard nar Arcturus."

Blinking, John tried to comprehend that. After a moment, he gave up. "I love you too, Tali'Zorah nar Rayya."

They stood there, holding each other for a few blessed, silent minutes. "I prayed for you, you know," John said after a few minutes. He wasn't sure why, it just came out. "I've never really prayed before, but I prayed God would bring you back to me. Guess He really does take requests."

Tali giggled and snuggled up to him a little tighter. "I prayed for you too, to the Ancestors. I asked your ancestors too, but I don't know their names."

"Come to think of it, I don't really know either, except for Great Uncle Vanderloo," John admitted. "Mom never told, and I never asked."

"Then I will pray to the spirit of Great Uncle Vanderloo that you stay safe."

"Well, then I guess I'll have to keep praying for you too." Reaching down, John tilted Tali's face up so he could see her eyes. They glowed brightly behind that mask, like two brilliant sparks. "Don't go. Stay here, with me. I don't deploy for another week. We could spend some time together. Go on some real dates. Maybe get married someday."

Disentangling herself from John's arms, Tali leaned back and crossed her hands under her breasts. She looked rather striking in that pose John mused. Then again, Tali was always pretty striking. "Johnny, when you propose to me, it will not be in a sweaty jumpsuit, in a smelly hospital physical training center. It will be in a nice suit. Preferably in a terribly romantic location, like when Admiral Hackett proposed to Admiral Vexxu. And I expect a ring. Not a big one, but something I can show to my sisters and Kelly."

A huge grin spread over John's face. "Yes ma'am. Nice clothes, somewhere romantic, with a ring. I'll have to rustle those up."

Tali sighed and looked away. "Not yet. I... I found something out on my Pilgrimage. Something I need to dig deeper into. Find out if what you told me was possible."

"If what's possible?" John asked, wracking his brain for what Tali might be talking about.

"Never mind. It's something I need to work out with the Spirit of my father. But it involves getting Rannoch back. It's going to take a while. But I have a ship, a good one. And money. Lots of money, actually. Aria's pretty generous when you help her take Omega back."

"You were involved in the fighting on OMEGA?" John demanded, flabbergasted. "But, that's where the traitor Spectre was! And where the pirate fleet that hit Elysium launched from!"

Glancing around, Tali reluctantly nodded. "I may have helped in the fighting. A little. I did some hacking, shot a few bosh'tets, saved a few people. Not like what you did on Elysium."

"I think that sounds EXACTLY like what I did on Elysium, Tali. If you're going back into danger, I'll resign my commission. Come with you, keep you safe. You mean more to me than anything Tali, even the corps."

"Thanks, but I think I can handle myself," Tali answered, sounding at the same time pleased, upset, and saddened. "And this is something I need to do alone. When I'm finished, I promise I'll come back to you."

John considered that for a moment, then grabbed Tali in a fierce embrace. "Alright. I'll be waiting for you. For as long as I need to. When do you have to go?"

"Soon. But I think I can spend a little more time here."

"Well then. I hear they have excellent grub in the cafe. They even have Emergency Induction Ports."

"Oh Keelah, did Kelly tell you about that?"

"Actually, it was Amberly." John sobered then. "Are you going to tell your family?"

Tali shrugged. "I dropped a letter in the mail. They'll get it soon enough. I can't see them, not until I finished. But I needed to see you. I had heard you were wounded on Elysium, and well, I missed you."

"Alright. Will you write while you're on Pilgrimage?"

Tali shook her head. "Not often. I'm headed to some pretty out of the way places. It won't be a simple matter to drop you a line. But when I can, I will."

"As long as you know I love you, Tali'Zorah."

"I shouldn't show you my face, I'm still on Pilgrimage. But..." there was a slight hissing noise, and Tali lifted her mask off. "I think I can kiss the man I love before I go."

_**Many Waters Meet, Kahje - Liara T'soni**_

_**March 25th, 2176**_

Liara groaned, resting her head on the desk. It was a nice desk, as was everything else in the office the hanar had given her. The view was spectacular, a sea floor view of the majestic waters of Kahje. Normally the view was calming. Today everything seemed to increase Liara's headache, even the tranquil waters.

"Make it stop, Samara. Go, you're free from your oath. Let someone else worry about this."

For a moment, Liara expected a lecture, a scolding of epic proportions from the justicar. Instead, after a moment, she felt a light hand on her shoulder. "In so very many ways Liara, you remind me of my daughters. That is both a good thing and a bad one. You are strong, but weary. Don't give up. The truth is worth fighting for. No matter how dark, no matter how grim, the truth must be spread."

Liara glanced up, her eyes brimming with tears of frustration and anxiety. "Do you really think so? They seem so blind, Samara. They won't listen. Only the hanar have taken Vendetta's warning seriously. They're building a fleet of warships, but it's going to be tiny. Even with all the tech Vendetta is giving them, they won't hold a candle to the League or the Citadel."

"Liara, it does not matter if they listen. Not really."

"What do you mean it doesn't matter! That's ALL that matters! If they don't listen all of galactic civilization will perish!"

Samara shook her head. "You misunderstand. That all matters, yes. But that is not what truly matters. What truly matters is that you took a stand. That you stood for what was right before the Goddess and all things living. That you told the truth, and the light of truth shone from you. What others do with the truth isn't what is important. What is important is that you told the truth, Liara."

Liara considered Samara's statement for a moment. Then she nodded. "I suppose you are right. Thank you, Samara. I don't know what I would do without you."

"Actually child, I fear you must do without me for a time. If I can beg your leave, that is."

"Of course, I'm not holding you here Samara. I never asked for your oath. You're free to go whenever you please. I can use your help, but if it's something you must do, go."

"It's something I've put off for far too long. A criminal who has evaded me for years. I've talked with Ser Krios, and he has agreed to aide me. I don't know how long it will take, but it is what I must do. And you are wrong, Liara. I am not free to go. I did swear that Oath, and I do not regret it. You have ordered me to do things the Code would normally forbid, but never for selfish gain. Never without good cause."

"Thank you. That means a great deal to me Samara. And please, go, take care of your duties. Don't feel guilty about it. If I truly need you, I'll find a way to get hold of you."

"Thank you, Truthbearer." With that, Samara turned and left, leaving Liara alone with her thoughts.

She looked back at the reports on the table. She now had full access to the hanar's intelligence network. Vendetta helped with a lot of it, but there was still so much to do. People needed to hear the truth, to be persuaded to see the light. Liara HAD convince the galaxy not to renew open hostilities. The League and Council had stopped fighting, but not because their hatred had lessened. If anything, the war had made it worse. The only reason the fighting had stopped was so that both sides could reorganize and find the traitors in their midst while they licked their wounds and prepared for the next round.

That was what Liara had to prevent. Open war between Citadel and League. Somehow, Liara had to find a way to unite the galaxy. The problem was, Liara was not a unifier. She wasn't terribly charismatic, she wasn't a great leader of woman or an orator. She needed to find someone who was. A hero who could unite the galaxy. Maybe a whole bunch of heroes, considering the shape things were in. Who that would be, Liara didn't know.

But she did know the truth. The Reapers were coming. And one way or another, she would keep speaking the truth until someone listened. If she couldn't save the galaxy herself, Liara would find the people who would. Until then, she would try to hold off the storm on the horizon.


End file.
